


Ornament

by BardToThra



Category: The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (TV)
Genre: Depression, F/M, Horror, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kidnapping, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prison, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Slavery, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Torture, Trauma, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:20:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 53,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26703607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BardToThra/pseuds/BardToThra
Summary: The Emperor captures the All-Maudra for his insidious plansREVISED VERSION/REUPLOAD (same story with changes)
Relationships: Seladon/original character, Seladon/skekSil (Dark Crystal), Seladon/skekSo (Dark Crystal), skekSo (Dark Crystal)/Original Character)
Comments: 30
Kudos: 32





	1. In The Night

The throne room was as still as a tomb, the Skeksis Lords having all retired to their private chambers hours ago. All but two- one who hunched in his throne, running a torn skein of black fabric through his talons, the other standing before him, his great head bowed in reverence.

"You are the first to hear of this plan, skekUng," said the Emperor. "I value your loyalty above all others."

"I am honoured by your consideration," replied the Garthim Master. "But I don't see why we shouldn't move in on them all at once. We have the strength. The numbers."

"That is _precisely_ why," the Emperor retorted, leaning back in his throne. "What reason is there to rush when we have the opportunity to seed fear and despair? The annihilation of our enemies is imminent. There is time yet to savour it."

skekUng grunted and shifted uneasily.

"Indeed, Lord Emperor. But to keep any of them alive surely beckons danger."

"Come, now," said skekSo, inclining his head. "Don't tell me you haven't _indulged_ on your scourges of the land."

"You know I have," said the Garthim Master. "But I don't keep them around afterwards. Although there's never much of them left worth keeping."

Laughing, the Emperor tossed the scrap of fabric he'd been clutching towards skekUng.

"I admire your bloodthirst. However, instruct your beasts to leave my prize in one piece."

"As you wish."

With the soft clinking of spurs the Garthim Master turned and swept from the room.

*

They came for her in the night, bulk and claw seething into the camp with an impossible, whispering silence. No one heard nor saw them, not even the watchmen; the intruders were as imperceptible as a shade cast in darkness to the sharpest ear or eye.

They slunk between sleeping Gelfling, took a single charge and vanished again in mere minutes, leaving left nothing changed but an empty bed space, its pillow still warm.

_Seladon's._

She, like Rian, Brea, and the others had been sleeping on her bed roll undisturbed, the first peaceful slumber she'd had in a long time. With the Skeksis attacks increasing the Gelfling clans were fleeing their homes and crossing Thra in a desperate bid to outrun their former rulers. Sifa rubbed shoulder with Vapran, unified by standing against their common enemy. Despite this Seladon _still_ wasn't used to it.

She did her best, of course, remaining humble and measured through every interaction, but this wasn't the world she knew. The familiarity of the commonfolk displaced her, and life on the road far from the routines and luxuries of her life before made Seladon feel a child again: useless, clumsy, strange.

Besides, although _mostly_ forgiven Seladon's betrayal still hung around her like a brooding ghost. She sometimes saw discomfort in the other's eyes, even the occasional flicker of distrust. Only Brea remained her true friend, the closest they had ever been to one another. But it wasn't enough. Seldon was lost now in many ways as she'd been before- still, aching as she was Seladon honoured her mother's unyielding leadership, giving as many words of encouragement to the others as she could.

In spite of her failures Seladon's passion and love of tradition provided the structure many of her fellows craved. This, at least, she could take pride in, even _comfort_ ; it helped her sleep at night. She slept so deeply, in fact, that when black pincers snatched her from her bed Seladon didn't immediately stir, even when she was stuffed into some kind of cage.

Seladon opened her eyes to bars all around her, a handful of huge, monstrous silhouettes looming through the dark. Her throat was too tight to scream. These creatures had been used to attack Gelfling settlements before, but they had always been brutal, aggressive, creating enough noise in their assault to give some of her brethren time to escape.

Now they only stood in silence, observing her sleeping companions- taking a headcount, Seladon realised, with a horrible, dreamlike calm.

The next moment they were on the move again, their scuttling limbs fast for their size. Seladon threw herself at the bars, her oesophagus finally opening enough to call for help, but the camp was already lying far behind. The bars cut into hands as she struck out at them, and the more she struggled and panicked the more she remembered the pinching claustrophobia of the cells in the Crystal Chamber, the biting straps of the chair that held Gelflings before that burning jewel.

She lay curled in a ball, her hands over her face, struggling not to cry. Seladon knew from the many lessons her mother had taught her that sovereigns were often captured in times of war to use as leverage against the other side, or else to serve as an example of what dread fate lay ahead for their people. Either way she could only expect torture, long imprisonment, and the eventual draining of her Essence.

Seladon had to prepare herself, to endure it all with grace. After all, she couldn't let the Skeksis see her weak or begging, as she'd been before. They must only see a rigid facade: strong, poised, immovable.

Hours passed in rushing darkness, the Garthim pouring over the terrain like a blade through silk. A distance that would have taken a Gelfling days to cover on foot was swallowed in half a night, and it put a knot in Seladon's throat to think how long it would be before any of her fellows noticed she was missing, let alone tried to follow. She felt her way around the cage on the Garthim's back once more, hoping her small fingers would find some small hole she could work open.

They found none.

The Garthim took her into the belly of the Castle of the Crystal, where the cold cells she remembered lay waiting. Two Skeksis stood observing her arrival, their eyes pinpoints of malice. Seladon recognised the larger one only from royal texts, for he hadn't dwelled at the castle during Skeksis rule, appearing only on special occasions. The other, claw-handed one, skekNa, reached up to release her from her cage. Seladon fell in a crumpled heap on the flagstones, her hair falling loose around her like the filaments of a white flower.

"Do _not_ touch me, Skeksis," she said coldly, her teeth bared. "I am _All-Maudra_ , and you will treat me as such."

"Such airs and graces," said skekNa, the Slave Master, snickering. "Think of what happened when you _last_ thought yourself so high and mighty."

He jabbed his claw at her cheek, which still bore scars rendered by Skeksis' talons. She couldn't remember _who_ had made them, only the humiliating scrabble of them beating her and tearing her gown away.

" _Then_ I still believed your cruel falsehoods," said Seladon. "Now I _know_ what you are. You're beasts, not even of Thra, nor any world like ours. You are not my betters. After all, I've battled your kind and aided at least one success against you."

"Nothing but a fluke," growled skekUng. "Now hush your talking, child-queen. I'm bored of your words."

He reached out and grabbed Seladon by the throat, clamping a metal collar and chain around it. She didn't bother fighting, well-aware how easily he could strike her down. Instead she glowered at them both from under her lashes, forcing herself not to tremble. It was a struggle to ignore how cold and exposed she felt before them, the wet, dank smell of the surrounding cells.

"Very well," said Seladon, stiffly. "Lock me away. I accept it."

"Ohhhh no," skekNa crooned, his false eye gleaming. "Our Lord has a special plan for you, All-Maudra. Very special, yes."

He cleared his throat, and several Podlings appeared from the gloom, nervously eyeing the Garthim which were only now beginning to scuttle away.

"Take the All-Maudra to the bathhouse and scrub her raw. Then put her in the room the Emperor had made up for her. Only luxury for this Gelfling."

" _What_? I don't understand."

Seladon felt tiny Podling hands tugging the chain around her neck, and though she pitied the creatures she ground her feet into the floor to resist them.

"I _demand_ you leave me here. I will _not_ allow anyone to touch me."

"I warned you, All-Maudra," snapped skekUng, and leaning over her he gripped Seladon's head so hard that she couldn't help screaming. "I could crush your skull into chalk-dust, little Queenling. Or your wings. Your choice. If you step one dainty foot out of line you'll wish you never crowned yourself All-Maudra."

"There is _no_ need!" Seladon gasped.  
skekUng let go of her, snorting with disgust.

"You're lucky you have the Emperor's favour, or you'd be drained already. Now go; you're not wanted here."

Stiffly Seladon followed the Podlings, walking fast enough that they felt no need to tug her chain. Her mind swirled with questions she was half-tempted to turn around to ask, but she knew she'd only be punished for them. The sweet offerings of a hot bath and warm bed felt like the promises of a lullaby, not the grim truth of captivity. There _had_ to be some catch, something left unsaid.

In the bath house Seladon watched the Podlings fill a colossal tub with steaming water, the contents reeking of oils from foreign lands. Petals floated like a pearly scum on the surface, and she couldn't help asking herself when the last time had been since she'd bathed like this. Many unnum, at least.

"Don't look at me," she said, glancing at the lingering Podling servants. "Please."

They turned their small, dark eyes away as Seladon stripped away her nightdress. Once naked apart from the collar and chain she stepped gingerly into the bath. To her it was as large as a small pool, the water reaching her neck. She closed her eyes and exhaled, hating how good the heat felt on her aching muscles.

It occurred to Seladon hazily that if being washed was what the Emperor wanted then she should have refused it, but she no longer had the energy to struggle. Even when the Podlings fussed around washing and braiding her hair for her she allowed it, though their wizened fingers on her scalp made her cringe. They didn't want to be here anymore than _she_ did, after all, and despite their orders they made no attempt to scour her body as requested.

Once done Seladon stood shivering at the side of the tub, holding out her arms for the thick towels, slippers and black velvet nightgown the Podlings carried over their heads like a costume in a carnival parade. She hated the plushness of the gown at once, thick and smothering, its trail pooling long behind her like liquid ink. Its neckline dipped into her small chest, making her feel even barer than before. She longed for the drapings and layers of her old garments, gathering dust in her wardrobe, far away.

"Follow, All-Maudra," said one of the Podlings, anxiously.

She was a young, shy thing, her face prettier under its red cap of hair than most Podlings tended to be, at least by Gelfling standards. The others seemed content to trust her with Seladon alone, apparently satisfied that she wasn't going to run off or attack them all in a sudden rage. As Seladon paced beside the creature she decided to try striking up some form of allyship with her. The concept daunted her; Podlings had always been viewed as lower than even the Grottan clan, filthy and stupid, although Brea's friend Hup had proved himself far from it.

Any old prejudices had to be thrown out, although there was no getting around the fact that they didn't seem to speak much of one another's language.

"What... what is your name?" asked Seladon, gently.

The Podling girl looked up at her, startled, then only carried on scuttling through the gloomy corridor ahead.

"Please, I didn't mean to offend you, and I'm not trying to get you into trouble. It's just... I need a friend here. I have no one else."

"Uldre," the girl muttered, without glancing back.

"Uldre; that's so pretty. Thank you. My name is Seladon."

It was a trial trying to talk and keep up a brisk pace in rustling velvet all at once.

"May I ask- do you know what the Skeksis intend to happen to me? This is all so... unexpected. I know these lovely things aren't meant to please me. They're for the Emperor, aren't they? Why does he want me... like this?"

The Podling's small shoulders hunched, and even without seeing her face Seladon felt her discomfort.

"Not... not just Emperor," Uldre whispered. "Others, too."

A slither of cold passed between Seladon's shoulderblades.

"The others? Why? What are they planning?"

Uldre shook her head and pushed Seladon towards a half-open door, using her squat form to widen the gap.

"Can't say. Lords angry. Beat Uldre."

"I'm sorry," said Seladon, faintly. "I... quite understand."

She stared around her, even more intimidated than she'd been by the bath house. The room was a vast bed chamber, all black, black, black from the high, painted ceiling to the swathes of net canopy draped over the bed posts. The bed itself was five times the size of Seladon's own back at the palace, and there were floor length mirrors on every wall, reflecting her tiny figure back at her. It made her feel impossibly small- but of course it did. That was what it was meant for.

Uldre pushed Seladon again, towards the bed. Seladon noticed a glass of wine and plate of food awaiting her on the bedside table, sumptuous meats swimming in sauce so rich the smell turned her stomach.

"It's the middle of the night; I couldn't possibly eat. And... well. It could be poisoned. The Skeksis mean me harm, I know it."

"No poison," said Uldre, firmly. "Saw made."

She tapped the plate and pointed at her mouth.

"All-Maudra eat."

Wrinkling her nose Seladon sipped the wine, surprised to find that it was good. She ate a morsel and that, too, was delicious, falling to pieces in her mouth. With Uldre watching closely Seladon slowly finished the meal, stopping occasionally to quell a pang of anxious nausea. Accepting the meal seemed like betrayal to herself, to her people. Was she really devouring the Skeksis' leftovers like a caged bird picking at seed? Yet she cleared her plate and drained the dregs of the wine, already feeling a little of its effects.

Murmuring in Podling tongue Uldre piled up the unwashed plate and glass and scurried towards the still-open door.

"Wait!" cried Seladon. "Please, don't leave me alone here!"

Uldre paused, glancing over her shoulder with sad, fearful eyes. Then she hurried on again, her head bowed. Seladon clambered down for the bed and went after her, the chain at her neck beating against her breast.

"Evening, All-Maudra," said a cool, familiar voice.

The Emperor. He loomed in the doorway like a decorated bird of prey, his ugly metal beak glinting in the lamplight. His robes whickered on the stone floor as he glided into the room, closing the door behind him.

"skekSo," said Seladon, icily. "Why have you brought me here? If it's to lure my people to you then you will fail. I've instructed them not to risk their lives for mine."

"So much time passed and you're still no cleverer than before. You think after how easily the Garthim soldiers found your camp I would need your kind to come to me? Idiocy. They found you quite easily, all by following scent left on a scrap of your old gown. You remember it, don't you? The one we tore from your body, shred by shred."

Seladon stood her ground, trembling, her head held high. The Emperor crossed to her, his gaze roving up and down her slim form.

"You suit the dress I've given you. Quite the beauty, are you not?"

"Don't speak to me as of we are anything to each other," said Seladon, in disgust. "We are nothing but enemies. I've taken the sword against your brothers in combat. I am no ornament for you to admire."

"On the contrary," said skekSo. "I believe you are."

Seladon saw his tongue run along his ugly snaggle of teeth.

"I think you're just a pretty figurehead, and none of your kin respect you anymore. Why would they, little turncoat? You only stopped worshipping the Skeksis when we refused you, like a Childling after its favourite toy is taken away. Perhaps if I promised you power and influence you would switch sides again."

"No."

Seladon's cheeks were flushed, the shame of her blindness and greed flooding back to her.

"Yes. Yes. But I won't appeal to your greed. You haven't earned it, and besides, what would I do with a crawling betrayer of a Gelfling? You'd turn like a beast with the Darkening inside it."

The Emperor reached out and touched Seladon's long, braided hair, thrusting his hand deeper when Seladon wrenched her head away.

"Don't touch me, Skeksis. You revolt me. I don't want any association with you or your kind. You're a false Emperor, a monster with no station. You..."

"I think I preferred you when you were a bootlicker," said skekSo, and clenched his hand so that Seladon was jerked towards him by the wrenching of the knot.

Panicking, Seladon flapped her wings and slapped at the Skeksis, gall rising in her throat at the mere sensation of his scaly talons on her scalp. He dragged her to the middle of the room, where they were reflected on all sides in the many mirrors. Seladon saw how small and weak she looked in his grip, like a helpless butterfly. It enraged her into a frenzy, and she used his grip on her hair in order to swing her legs against him.

"Shall I take you to be drained now, All-Maudra, or will you behave yourself?" asked skekSo. "Your Essence would be most reviving."

At that Seladon stilled. She couldn't go to that chair, staring into the belly of the Crystal. She'd sensed its sickness, the corruption, like a star gone mad.

"What do you _want_ , skekSo? To punish me? To torment me? Or both?"

With a slow, languid motion the Emperor brought his free hand to Seladon's collarbone and pushed the thick fabric of her nightdress down, down until it slipped free of her arms and pooled down around her ankles.

" _Pleasure_ ," said skekSo. "Mine, not yours. I'm keeping you in luxury as that is how I want you: clean, groomed, palatable. Fit for an Emperor. What use would you be to me kept in a cage covered in filth?"

Seladon tried to say something but her tongue was dry, glued to the roof of her mouth. She should have known to expect this; the taking of sensual spoils wasn't an uncommon war crime, after all. The Skeksis were creatures of foul excess, denying themselves nothing, and what was the taking of flesh compared to the drinking of pure life Essence?

"You're silent, All-Maudra. What do you make of your new station, whore-queen?"

"I... you cannot," Seladon croaked. " _Anything_ but that. I'll take a noble death over losing my dignity to you."

skekSo laughed, running his talons over the scars on her white cheek.

"Foolish Gelfling. Any dignity you ever had was discarded when you sold your race to me for a crown. You are a treacherous, selfish whimperer- but you are beautiful. Look at you."

He forced her to gaze ahead at their reflections on the opposite wall, her tiny, naked form engulfed by his towering darkness. With one hand he caressed the metal collar at her throat, the chain hanging between her small breasts.

"Silver looks most excellent against your complexion, does it not?"

Seladon uttered a little cry of disgust and reached up to dash his hand away.

"You're on no battlefield now, All-Maudra," said the Emperor. "Without sheer numbers to protect you you're weak. Submit to me."

"I will never yield to a Skeksis again," said Seladon, unsteadily.

skekSo grazed his rough hand over her breasts, her taut stomach, between her legs, a place she had never allowed another to touch. His claws drew blood, stark against her small thatch of silvery pubic hair.

"You have no choice," said skekSo. "Are you too stupid to understand that?"

He thrust his fingers inside her, and Seladon screamed, the pain of his rough handling coming like a shock. Somehow she couldn't stop staring at herself in the mirror, seeing the shameful thing she'd become. The Emperor brought his head close to hers, and she smelled the awful sweetness of putrefaction, of disease. She felt him press his hardness against her, felt his hand release it from his robes to stroke himself against her lower back.

"I could take you now," he murmured into her ear. "You're quite tempting."

He leaned down to bite her shoulder, and Seladon cried out again, tears squeezing from the corners of her eyes.

"You _can't_ ," she said.

"Oh, but I _can_. You are far from the first. In trine past your subjects would spread their legs to me willingly and scream my name in their ecstasy. As will _you_ , although not so willingly."

skekSo pulled his talons from between her legs and dragged them across her face, her lips, smearing blood and wetness there.

"Still, I think I'll wait to take your maidenhead at least another day. What plans I have for you, All-Maudra."

Seladon felt something warm and wet against her back, skekSo's soft groan of pleasure. He pushed her away, letting her fall to her knees. She was shaking so heavily with sobs that she barely noticed him leaving until he closed the chamber door behind him.

*

Seladon allowed herself to cry for around twenty minutes or so, but that was all. It was how she'd sobbed in her own room at the palace, from frustration at her mother's neglect, how she'd cried on her bed roll under the stars, mourning the past and fearing her future. Now Seladon wept because she felt filthy, and knew that through the oncoming days her defilement would only get worse.

She wept until her eyes burned and her full stomach squeezed, then pulled herself upright, rubbing the tears away on the back of her wrist. There was a basin in the corner of the chamber; Seladon went to it and washed herself in icewater, gritting her teeth as she scrubbed between her legs and lower back where the dry crust of the Emperor's leavings were. Afterwards her hands still didn't feel clean, and no amount of chafing them on her nightdress changed the crawling sensation upon them.

With little else to do Seladon lay on the vast bed, feeling as small as a childling under the covers. A vast, sweeping depression threatened to smother her, but she held it at arms length, considering what her mother would do in her place. Escape would be impossible; there were too many eyes in the castle, and even the weakest Skeksis could overpower Seladon without effort. There was certainly no guarantee that her people would come to her rescue- Brea would try, Seladon supposed, but she would fail without the others' support. Seladon had told them not to if any such situation should arise, after all, never truly expecting it to again.

What options were left to her then, options fair, noble _Mayrin_ would consider? Would she simply bear the degradation of skekSo using her body without a fight? It was all too easy to picture Mayrin accepting the assault in placid, martyred silence, eyes closed, just as she'd endured her death. Mayrin would have been ashamed of the way Seladon had screamed when the Emperor touched her, like a baby bird being ousted from its nest.

Merely recalling his crawling touch on her made Seladon ram her fist into her mouth to stop herself sobbing again. It seemed impossible that she'd once _fawned_ over skekSo's elegance and majesty. That she'd seen beauty in the ancient, knotted carapace he presented to the world rather than the eldritch beastliness she saw now. Perhaps if he'd been _truly_ beautiful the thing he wanted from her wouldn't sicken her so. But to know he wanted to mount her, rip away the one experience left that should have been a joy to her, his rotting beak breathing into her face-

Seladon's thoughts ran in such terrible circles until at last she slept, her dreams the spiny, uncertain type common to a fever. She awoke bathed in sweat to a knocking at her chamber door. A voice piped up on the other side.

"All-Maudra must wake! Emperor summons!"

For a minute Seladon lay, ignoring the voice, considering how badly she'd be punished if she never got up at all. Then with aching reluctance she eased herself out of bed and went to the door, letting the Podling, Uldre, in.

"If you know of any way I can get out of this you _must_ tell me," Seladon whispered the moment Uldre was behind closed doors.

Looking weary Uldre shook her head.

"There _no_ way. Why All-Maudra think Podlings stay? Lords raid our villages, drain us if don't obey. And drained Podling... don't always die. Is worse."

This came as a surprise. As far as Seladon was aware draining was always lethal unless the operation was somehow disturbed. She opened her mouth to ask about it but Uldre pulled at her arm, dragging her out into the corridor.

To Seladon's relief she completely disregarded the humiliating dangling chain.

"Must wash. Get dressed. Like yesterday. Emperor said so."

"I don't care what he wants," Seladon murmured.

She tried to endure the washing process without feeling, her face impassive, but the sorrowful eyes of the Podlings watching her made her shake with anger. The whole ceremony was humiliating, every being in the castle aware that the Emperor intended to deflower her. It would have been better as some foul secret; that she could have suffered well.

Once the process was over Uldre took Seladon into another room where jewels, garments and a table of cosmetics were waiting. Another vast mirror was affixed to the tabletop, reflecting Seladon's gaunt face back at her. Uldre pointed to a thin, diaphanous dress in royal blue, so gauzy that when Seladon pulled it over her head she could see her nipples and pubis through the fabric. There was, of course, no shift to wear beneath.

For her hair there was a black diadem of jewels, black slippers for her feet, and the makeup Uldre suggested was the obsidian to match. When she glanced at herself in the mirror again Seladon felt an ugly, wrenching sense of recognition. The Emperor had made her replicate the look she'd worn when she'd begged for the lives of her kind, only cruder, showing more flesh, making her lovely and terrible.

Seladon felt dizziness rock her, and she had to catch Uldre's hands to stop herself crumpling to the floor.

"Be strong, All-Maudra," Uldre whispered. "Mustn't let Skeksis win."

"It feels as though they already have," said Seladon.

Nevertheless she allowed Uldre to help her upright and followed her down the seemingly endless corridors. It struck her how ghoulish it was to have dressed for and to be walking towards her own rape as if it was nothing more than a summer dance. Still she marched, unfaltering, keeping her jewelled head upright.

As they turned corner after corner Seladon recognised the path they were taking. She'd expected to be escorted towards some private bedchamber, but instead the doors ahead she knew lead to the throne room. Suddenly the mimicry of her coronation gown made sense.

"Uldre," said Seladon, halting before the doors. "This is the last time I'll ask you, and I am begging you. If you know any way way I can escape the castle then please show it to me."

With a wretched expression Uldre shook her head. Her eyes were moist with tears.

"All-Maudra must go."

Breathing deep Seladon pushed the doors open, fighting tears back from her own eyes. The throne room was teeming with Skeksis, glittering in their finery as they fussed around the throne. skekSo sat upon it, his cruel head twisting towards Seladon as she entered.

"How delectable you look, All-Maudra," he said, his voice saturated with irony.

The other Skeksis twittered nastily at Seladon as she walked between them, some giving her little jabs and pushes as they did so.

"Not so fierce without your weapon, are you, warrior-queen?" snapped skekEkt, her painted talons pulling Seladon's hair.

"No, no, so small, so _pathetic_ ," said the Chamberlain, his eyes narrow with petty joy. "Like her doomed kin."

Biting down on the side of her tongue Seladon ignored each shove and comment, staring through the Emperor as if she could see the throne behind him. Her tiny body pulsed with sweat despite the thinness of her dress. She could see the want in their bald stares, the drool gathering in their beaks. Her throat ached to howl in rage and misery and terror, but she did not. Instead she only stood before the throne, her spine held achingly straight.

"How _willingly_ you trot to me," said the Emperor, leaning towards her. "Ever the little kneeler, are you not?"

"What _choice_ do I have?" asked Seladon. "You will torture or drain me if I dont. Any compliance in me is to retain my life, not out of any genuine servitude."

She spoke coolly, regally, thinking _BE LIKE MOTHER. MOTHER. MAYRIN._

"Must _they_ watch?" Seladon continued, indicating the other Skeksis with disdain. "If you insist on despoiling me then you may at least do so in private."

"Always the clever negotiator, even for the breaching of your maidenhead. You didn't get what you requested last time, what makes you think I'll grant it now?"

"It serves no purpose for them to see."

"Three of our brothers fell due to your kin and their meddling," snarled skekUng. "We should take your head!"

"You hide the source of our Essence from us!" bellowed the Ritual Master. "When we could drink full if you lay down and surrendered!"

"You see?" said skekSo, his head tilted archly. "They call for your blood. I could have you whipped to the bone, crush your hands in a machine, and yet you balk at them observing so mild a ruin? You should thank me for my mercy."

Seladon clenched her fists, wishing for some sudden miracle to the slow the creeping of fate.

"I will thank you for _nothing_ , Skeksis."

"So brave, little queen," said skekSo. "So proud. Not for long."

He reached out and fondled Seladon's small breasts through the gauze of her dress. Then he shoved her, making her topple back into the frey of Skeksis.

"Prepare her. She needs warming."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone new- this story was first uploaded in 2019 and was finished a few months ago! I decided to remove the whole story from AO3 briefly so I could do some heavy alterations, but for anyone who's read the story before I'll be trying to keep as much of the plot and scenes intact as I can with the changes in mind! It should have been written this way from the start IMO, but writing from chapter to chapter I was never sure how it would end up. I'm excited to get this version out there.
> 
> What does the new version mean? Well, extra content, longer chapters and less plot holes! It was meant to just be horror erotica and now I'm invested in making it better for structural and personal reasons ❣ I'll upload 2-3 chapters a week until the entire story is restored.
> 
> In hindsight I should have just deleted chapters from the original upload as it sucks to lose all your sweet comments but kinda ready for a fresh start!


	2. Entertaining The Court

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seladon suffers beneath the Skeksis Lords

The Skeksis fell upon the All-Maudra as they had after her crowning, yet more vicious than ever with the abandon of gluttonous power. Seladon closed her eyes and fell limp, fully intending to keep her silence throughout the onslaught, but claws were at her eyes, scratching the lids open.

The Skeksis whooped and cawed as they leered down at her, tossing her slim body amongst them as if she was a child's doll. Countless hands ripped at her intricately braided hair and jewels, scattering the black diamonds across the flagstones and snatching them up for themselves. Seladon's beautiful dress was frayed into strips, talons and beaks pinching the bare flesh beneath.

She sucked in a whooping breath. This was worse than being assaulted by the Emperor alone, the dizzying lack of control making her feel like a butterfly in a sandstorm. Flailing her arms and legs Seladon managed to kick the Scroll Keeper's spectacles askew as he dribbled upon her.

"For Thra's sake someone _hold_ her!" he yelped.

At once hands were at Seladon's wrists and ankles, wrenching her thighs apart. skekAyuk, the Gourmand, peered between them, his fat face wobbling obscenely.

"I wonder if the All-Maudra tastes as good as Essence," he said, and ducked his head down to lap at her labia.

Whining through her teeth Seladon tried to buck away from him, but talons were all over her, crushing her against the flagstones. She felt wet beaks suckling her nipples, claws scratching at her holes, pushing inside so that she felt impossibly full. The fear of being ripped apart by their rough handling made her shake like a beaten dog, and that provoked more laughter and mocking than ever.

"Not so superior now," said skekTek, raking his talons across her breasts. "You might well be the lowliest animal alive."

"But not _entirely_ useless," skekUng growled.

He forced a swollen organ against Seladon's lips, into her throat, pinning her even when she heaved and suffocated, tears streaming down her cheeks.

In her trine adoring the Skeksis Lords Seladon had nursed her share of innocent pashes towards them, not knowing despite her haughty pretense at worldly ways what horrors would one day come of that desire. She hadn't let herself think of the bodies beneath their robes, although quickly forgotten dreams had often seen her waking in some Skeksis bed or another, favoured Gelfling of the Lords. Not one had even imagined her choking on a cock so thick her lips bled at the corners in the taking of it, as they did now.

Evilly glittering eyes stared down on all sides, and thick robes smothered her. Seladon heard grunts and slapping of skin as they Lords touched themselves to her struggling, the gloating chuckle of the Emperor overseeing it all. 

Someone struck her cheek with an open palm, another fumbled her wings, a third forced her hands to stroke an oozing phallus into shuddering climax. The shame of it made Seladon wail, imagining the disgust in her kin's eyes if they could see her now.

 _Idiot_ , Seladon thought, her mind suddenly taking on Mother Aughra's voice. _Your people love you. Would fight for you. Have done it. Got it into your head they'd think less of you for a rutting you never asked for? Hmph! Wake up, Seladon._

This was all true, Seladon knew it, but she was still so overwhelmed with her own misery that each tortured second seemed to last a lifetime. Every crease of her body was roughly handled, investigated, used, except in coitus- the second the Chamberlain clambered, smirking, on top of her the Emperor's voice cut through the rabble, stilling them all.  
.  
"Enough. That pleasure is mine to take. Let her stand."

Moaning in disappointment the Skeksis stepped back, releasing Seladon in a sticky heap. She sat up slowly, the smell of blood and semen cooling on her skin driving her close to a swoon. There were bites on her pubic mound, her nipples, her buttocks, and as she stood wetness- blood, saliva -streamed between her thighs. A single sob wracked her body, eliciting howls of laughter from the gawping Lords. Then, gradually, she straightened, her blood-soaked head held high.

"I'm impressed with your strength, All-Maudra," said the Empror, approaching her. "Are you so fallen from grace that you have no shame in sharing your body?"

"It is... my duty to be strong," said Seladon, her voice a cracked whisper. "And I take no pride in what you have done, or _will_ do. But it is not my misdeed to be ashamed of. I am absolved."

She was proud of how easily formal speech came to her tongue, even with it caked in blood and come. The Emperor seized the chain swinging at her throat and twisted it in his fist, hoisting Seladon up on tiptoe.

"You might not have such courage if I'd let them all mount you. Perhaps I am truly the kind and gracious Emperor you took me for, before."

Gathering foul saliva in her mouth Seladon spat into skekSo's eye, feeling a mad dart of glee as he recoiled. It hadn't been All-Maudra-like, but considering the state she was in now it hardly mattered.

"Filthy Gelfling," roared the Emperor. "You will regret that dearly."

He drove Seladon down onto the ground, ripping his robes open even as he fell upon her. The rage in his eyes was like a white flame, and the pain as he forced one of three cocks the Skeksis race possessed inside her burned even more. Seladon screamed as he entered her, her fingernails crumbling as she scratched the flagstones for purchase. Each thrust was a lance of raw hatred and desire, smacking her fragile bones upon the floor again and again. Tears seared her eyes, but she made herself face him, staring up into his scornful gaze as he ground the last of her innocence from her.

 _Be like Mayrin, Mayrin, Mayrin_ , Seladon told herself as the Emperor turned her on her stomach. _Be as strong and proud as mother. Be as..._

skekSo wound her hair in his fist as he took her from behind, wrenching her head up towards the other Skeksis. They snarled malevolence at her, spilled their seed to her agony. Seladon felt the Emperor squeezing her rear, bruising her in his iron grasp. The small spark of self-worth she'd clawed back began to gutter. It didn't matter that her loved ones wouldn't pity her: she pitied _herself_.

Seladon's whole body juddered with pain, her beauty, intellect, clever manners all worth nothing at all. She was a Skeksis plaything, the punchline of an endless, gruesome joke. One last, reedy scream wrenched out of her as the Emperor groaned into her ear, and then Seladon had no energy for more. Her body folded like a rag, and as skekSo's cock withdrew from her she wondered dimly if now her fading life-will would allow her to die.

"Have the Podlings wash her and take her back to her chamber. She'll still amuse me yet."

The shrieking laughter of the Skeksis court was the last Seladon knew of that morning.

*

How cold the mirrored room was, how cold, how quiet, how dark.

Seladon wasn't sure how long she'd been lying in her bedchamber for, having no means to tell the time. But she felt the hours beating like a slow pulse, throbbing through her, and knew that beyond her windowless jail night had fallen.

Uldre tried to bring food, but Seladon screamed at her, a wordless, animal shrill of pain that had frightened the girl away completely. The same shrieks had rolled from Seladon's prone body as she'd been carried here from the throne room, gripped on all sides by white, shrunken hands, the hands of corpses.

Corpses that _lived_.

Seladon hadn't understood what they were, at first, thinking herself addled into hallucination. Yet the _Skeksis_ had seen the ghastly things too, cackling and kicking at them as they hauled Seladon towards the door. It had taken some time for Seladon to recognise the pallorless visages hanging over her as Podlings. Their eyes stared through her, as white and emotionless as moons, their hair parched wisps on their scalps. They didn't respond to her aching cries, nor any attempt at pleading. The colour of life was gone out of them, with their Essence, Seladon finally understood.

This was the end Uldre had considered worse than death: soulless servitude, forever and always.

Was it the Emperor's plan, then, to reduce Seladon to a dry, mindless hollow of her former self? The perfect, pliant doll for him to overpower, again and again, while somewhere in her empty head a tiny, sentient particle screamed mouthlessly in the dark?

She _couldn't_ live like that. It was _obscene_. Better to be gone, returned to Thra, returned to _dignity_ , than hovering in some blighted half-life. There could be a new All-Maudra, after all. A _better_ one.

But when alone in her room Seladon could find nothing to usher the mercy of death- no blades or indeed anything sharp, the basin too shallow to drown herself in. The chamberpot under her bed was metal, impossible to break into shards. Similarly, it was too light to shatter the mirrors when she knocked it against them. Her last resort was to tear the bedsheets to make a noose, but there was no place to hang or trap it to pull it taut, for she couldn't lift the bed alone.

Ideas exhausted Seladon fell back onto the bed, sobbing, thinking how useless she was even at dying. Other monarchs had managed it across history, and in fairytales of old, with less in their cells than she.

Only then did Seladon's eye fall on the flaming lamp affixed to the wall, made of glass. She blew it out and dropped it on the flagstones, wincing at the crash of it breaking.

The room was thrown into blackness, and upon realising she'd have to find a shard to cut her wrists blind Seladon could have kicked herself for her stupidity. _Still_ she tried, fumbling, her fingers burning from tiny glass pieces pricking the pads. It was as if somehow the bigger pieces were edging away from her on invisible legs, or perhaps she didn't really want to find them hard enough.

After ten or twenty attempts Seladon gave up, crawling away to lie in a ball on the floor.

She didn't want the bed with its false comfort. It felt better to have the icy flagstones pressed against her bones, more real, like a penance. Her many wounds itched and stung, the place between her legs most of all. Every time she moved a fresh wave of pain spasms through her, and she screamed with her face flattened to the unyielding stone.

So it went on for hours, self-pitying, breaking into cries of suffering, until at last the chamber door opened again.

"Cease that extraneous cacophony, All-Maudra," the Scientist said, staring down at her. "I'm only here to assess the extent of your wounds as a physician, and give you something to aid your sleep."

"Don't touch me," Seladon screeched at him. "You've done _enough_ , skekTek!"

"You'll have to grow accustomed to my presence. I don't doubt there will be more obtusions for me for me to inspect if you keep up this behaviour."

He left the door open to let in light, but Seladon was in too much pain to make a run for it past him. She sat like a carved chip of stone, flinching each time skekTek's fingers grazed her skin. His touch lingered too long on her swollen breasts, her aching slit, reliving the events of only hours before. His good eye glazed over with malicious pleasure.

"Nothing of any great severity, no bites breaking anything more than upper epidermis. Quite the theatrics you demonstrated there, All-Maudra. Is your pain really so terrible?"

"How can you ask me that, after what you did?" Seladon muttered. "All of you?"

skekTek clicked his beak, apparently pleased by being considered amongst her tormentors.

"Selfish Gelfling. You are an unusual specimen. Still wallowing in your misery when you are fortunate. Your mother. Your sister. They lost their lives for your futile cause, yet you remain."

A new, deeper horror settled inside Seladon, provoking another bout of helpless screams. She tore at her hair, rapt with anguish. Inwardly she could see the Skeksis above her, feel their tongues and fingers opening her holes, and tasted the blood-filth of death.

"Mother! Tavra!" Seladon moaned.

"Reflect upon them, and what you've done, All-Maudra," smirked the Scientist, rustling through his robes. "But _first_ , a draught of what your uneducated people dubbed Milk-poppy. A sedative comprised of _popiver somniferum_ extract and and purest _vocatus_. The Emperor wishes for you to be well-rested. No simple task, on a night like this."

He pressed the bottle to Seladon's open lips, and she made no attempt to fight him. Foul swill vanished down her throat, and Seladon swallowed with a thirst for that promised sleep. The Scientist clapped a hand on the back of her head and gripped it the way he might a laboratory rat as she drank until he judged she'd had enough and yanked the bottle away.

"Forsake your pride, All-Maudra," he said. "You are the Emperor's experiment, and I hypothesise this will be your existence for an infinite temporal period."

Then he left her in the dark, the first mists of the Milk-poppy rolling over her.

It brought sleep, alright, of a dense and suffocating kind. Yet Seladon plunged into it willingly, hoping that skekTek had somehow misjudged his measurements and poured a killing dose.

*

Consciousness came slowly to Seladon, almost _comfortably_ , for in the warmth she half-believed that she was home again, curled amongst silk sheets. But the coverings surrounding her were thick velvet, the weight of it like a mass of crushing sand. She jumped, choking, awake, shoving the hated quilt away.

Someone had put Seladon back into bed while she'd been sleeping, replaced the lamp, covered her in another abominable nightdress. There was food on the bedside table again, simpler stuff this time: bread and fruit. Her mouth felt as if it were full of cobwebs; Seladon couldn't have eaten even if she'd wanted to.

There was one change: the chain about her neck was now bolted to the headboard, preventing her from leaving the bed. It amazed Seladon that the sound of this being done hadn't woken her. The draught the Scientist had urged her to drink had been strong, and she felt a guilty pang for more of it. If she could sleep then she didn't have to _think_ , didn't have to _cry._

She hadn't the energy for _either_ process, now.

Closing her eyes Seladon let the heaviness hanging over her pull her back into a crushing semi-slumber, tossing and turning into tumultuous dreams.

"All-Maudra."

Seladon opened her eyes again with deep reluctance.

The Emperor stood by the bed, his hand resting on the covers. His expression was strange, something between triumph and revulsion.

"Ah. So you _didn't_ die in your sleep, after all. I thought you might, after claiming to favour a demise over my company. You seem to have the kind of spite in your heart that could cease its beating at will."

"I wish it did," said Seladon, softly. "But I am still here, with you. Why won't you let me die?"

"Why do you still yearn for clemency, All-Maudra, when you know that you'll never receive it?"

The Emperor pulled the quilt away with a flick of one arm, leaving nothing covering Seladon but her nightgown. She felt it cling to her small bosom, her slim hips, hiding nothing.

"I don't expect your mercy," said Seladon. "I merely don't understand why you torture _me_ when your aim is to devour my people. Why waste your time with _one_ when there are _many_?"

"A good point, clever little queen."

His tone was low, hungry, predatory. Seladon inched back against the headboard, recognising the stirring of lust in the creature from that alone.

"There _will_ be others like you, a select few chosen to keep enough of the Gelfling kind alive to drain, year after year. A perfect slew of pets, breeding the most vivacious and exceptional young."

"No."

The lamp light reflecting off skekSo's metal beak made him look ungodly, like a thing made of fire.

"Those offspring will be raised to maturity and drained, some made into servants, others reduced completely to Essence. A select number will be kept aside to continue the line, and some... well, the pretty ones will be mine to play with. Perhaps that last living sister of yours. Tavra, was it? Oh no; little Brea. An adorable specimen."

"You're lying," cried Seladon, pressing her hands to her chest. "You're saying all this to torture me."

"Am I?"

Smirking, the Emperor reached across to Seladon and slithered a hand under her dress. She stiffened, drawing her knees closed against it.

"Come now, I think you know me better than _that_ , Seladon. You're aware of how far I will go to preserve the Skeksis' continued existence. I have no empathy for your pains; rather, I savour them. Just as I will your sister, when we capture her."

He gripped Seladon's shaking head and forced her to nod, as if she was a marionette.

"Oh, we _shall_ , you know. When you were taken we assessed the number of Gelflings in your rag-tag group, and we shall suppress them with little struggle. One by one your friends will be wrung of their Essence and my brethren will thrive again."

"You're disgusting," Seladon whispered.

She felt the horrors of skekSo's gloating swill around her like standing water, slowing her reactions to the weakest murmur. He pulled her knees apart, roughly, even off-handedly. His fingers worked her, jolting tiny quivers of pain through her torso.

"Perhaps I'll keep you together, doomed, pretty sisters. How beautiful you'd look, pinned beneath your Emperor, tasting one another-"

"No!"

"Yes. Yes. Yes."

He held her head against the headboard as he took her, knocking her skull with every thrust, still crooning to her under his breath.


	3. The Mad King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Emperor's cruelty increases with a feast

Seladon couldn't count how many times the Emperor took her, although perhaps it was only once; he stopped often, wheezing, hawking black phlegm from his throat and nostrils into the chamberpot beside the bed. The liquid stank of turned meat and fruit broken down into ooze by the beating sun, sweetness and rot all at once.

Something in the Emperor was putrefying, and Seladon doubted that there was a medic in the existence of Thra who could halt its slow, steady inching towards death.

A very clear, stark thought struck Seladon: _this Skeksis is going mad._

She wondered if the other Lords knew it, too, or if they merely believed the Emperor's seizing obsession with her another symptom of their collective, boundless greed. After all, none of them seemed opposed to her presence, except perhaps skekUng, who'd made no effort to conceal his dislike. But then again, none of the Lords would _dare_ oppose the Emperor, not outright; if they saw lunacy beginning to consume him Seladon suspected that they would merely watch with cunning patience until their king was finished and one of _them_ could take his place.

Seladon well knew their ravenous need for power, for control, having felt it so strongly herself. It disgusted her now, but still she understood, almost _empathised_ with these animals. But at least _she_ had rebounded from her grief-riddled thirst to rule; skekSo would not, no matter how long his stinking carcass filled the throne.

 _He is going mad_ , thought Seladon, again. _He's going mad, and maybe I am too. I must be, to survive what he has done._

The fourth time skekSo stopped fucking her to spit out his obsidian bile Seladon burst into cracked, helpless laughter. The Emperor only blinked at her, unabashed by the display.

"I'll allow you your mirth. There is little else you can do against me."

"Have you no _shame_?" Seladon hissed at him, her laughter ending as quickly as it had come.

She felt the Emperor heaving against her, clawing back his breath.

"As I asked _you_ , a day ago, and I answer as you do: no, I do not. Why do you ask? Because of what I do to you? Or my ailment?"

skekSo ran his tongue through the oozing mass collecting in his ruined beak, beneath its silver case.

"I conceal my affliction from the others to underline my strength, _not_ mask some perceived weakness. Besides, at my lowest point I am still stronger than you, or _any_ of your kind. Even the Grottan with her stolen Darkening will fall to me. She will heal my ills."

Then the Emperor was at Seladon again, fucking her with an almost desperate bout of aggression. Seladon tried to breathe in short, shallow breaths as skekSo's weight ground against her, ropes of jewels chiming together with each thrust. It was the only way she could hold the steadily sliding pieces of herself together, the parts of her that _screamed_.

When he was done with her the Emperor stood, adjusting his robes, licking the last of her wetness from his talons. Seladon turned from him as best she could despite her chains, closing her eyes against her many reflections on the mirrored walls.

"Ah, little queen, I'd almost forgotten," said skekSo, rustling through a pocket of his many robes. "I had the Scroll Keeper acquire some suitable reading for you from the library. It should distract your mind from... more _troublesome_ thoughts."

He placed a heavy tome on top of the bed covers, patting it until dust blew out.

"What importance is it to _you_ what I think about?" said Seladon.

"The Scientist reported that you tried to put an end to yourself. Clumsily, and without success, but an attempt, all the same. Most unfortunate. I'm afraid you'll live a long, serviceable life as my creature, and learn to entertain me in all facets."

"What if I refuse you? What of _that_?"

skekSo turned and struck Seladon's cheek open-handed, bringing a hot flush of blood to the surface. The heat was rousing, somehow, and Seladon sat bolt upright on the bed, feeling more herself than she had in days.

"Oh, I fully expect you to _try_ , All-Maudra ," said the Emperor. "You may be naive and hot-headed, but your resolve is admirable. It entertains me. If you were some feeble girl you would have been dead long ago, Essence gilding the back of a Lord's throat. But no. You still take your feeble stand against me."

He eyed her, clearly thinking of using her again. Seladon considered how quickly he'd tire of her if she ever _did_ stop resisting him, if she lay like a complacent bride, like a sleeper, like the dead.

Like her mother.

So far Seladon had failed every attempt, and as she stared back into skekSo's eye the acuteness of her hatred struck like a barb in her heart.

" _Leave_ me," she said.

Her voice was as hard and brittle as frost.

"How _adorable_ ; demands from the All-Maudra," the Emperor growled, but leave he did, striding from the chamber with the usual leaf-like muttering of fabric.

The first thing Seladon did when the door closed was kick the book off the bed, taking pleasure from the impactful thump of it hitting the floorboards. Even if she _had_ been able to bend and pick it up without straining her neck on the chain she didn't _want_ to; she wouldn't lower herself to becoming a scholar of texts written by Skeksis.

The hours passed slowly, maddeningly, the silence driving her thoughts and sorrows. She fretted over Brea, hoping her group would do the sensible thing and take refuge in underground tunnels somewhere, a plan that had only recently been considered. If Brea was captured Seladon had no doubt that the Emperor would hurt _her_ the way he had Seladon, and it would be worse, so much worse.

It would be Seladon's fault.

After a while the door opened again, and this time it was little Uldre in the doorway, blinking pensively.

"My... my friend," Seladon cried. "I'm so sorry I... I screamed at you. I..."

She felt a pulse of horrible grief ripple through her, and she lapsed into a twitching silence.

"All-Maudra _follow_ ," said Uldre. "Lords having feast. Want you."

"Please don't call me that. I... don't want to hear that title any more."

Uldre squirmed a little, then said, "Seladon."

The Podling waddled to Seladon's side and gestured towards her chained throat. A glint of metal flashed in her hand- a key. Nodding shortly Seladon allowed the girl to release her from the headboard. Although the collar remained around her neck the liberty of movement returned to her limbs was a blessed relief. She shook them out, one by one.

"Uldre glad Seladon alive," said Uldre, placing a tiny starfish hand on Seladon's arm. "Uldre thought..."

Quivering, Seladon dropped her own hand on top of Uldre's, taking comfort in her warm, rough skin.

"The Skeksis will not let me leave you. I wouldn't worry just yet."

She managed a small, pained smile, and Uldre returned it. They stood together, for a moment or so, savouring the feeling of comfort. There would be so little of it here, after all.

"Why are you so kind to me?" asked Seladon, abruptly. "You have no reason to be. It puts you at risk."

The Podling's expression darkened.

"Seen too many _umiru_. So many Gelfling gone. And Podling. Uldre family-"

She closed her eyes, and pressed her mouth thinly closed.

"Lords want you," said Uldre again.

The subject was closed, and Seladon was almost glad that she didn't know the details of the tale that had been left unsaid.

*

The Lords had Seladon dress in red for the feast.

The symbolism of the colour was not lost on her. Seladon stared at herself thinking, 'sunset, danger, deflowering' before Uldre led her to the throne room.

It look garish against her sickly complexion, indecent, as if her throat had cut and drained out all over her. But Seladon knew that the Skeksis hadn't thought so deeply into it; to _them_ she wore only the trappings of a whore.

As she entered the throne room Seladon saw the obscene Lords glance up from their meals and leer, sauces dripping from their beaks onto their robes. The room had been repurposed as a dining hall, a vast table piled with numerous plates and simmering pots filling its width. Drained Podling slaves trudged up and down, piling more food onto already mountainous servings. All Skeksis were present except the Scientist; Seladon checked them off from a mental list, one by one, taking grim pride in her perfect memory.

"At _last_ , All-Maudra," said the Emperor, wiping grease from his face. "It's been some hours since I last spoke with you. I hope that your temper has improved."

"Such a _pretty_ dress," skekEkt twittered. "I recall making that one. Doesn't silk look becoming on the little queen?"

Seladon kept her lips sealed, only remained standing awkwardly in the centre of the room. Was she expected to sit amongst them or simply hover, the subject of casual humiliation? Most of the Skeksis were too engrossed in filling their bellies to give her more than the occasional glance.

At last skekSo beckoned her lazily towards him, speaking through a mouthful of meat.

"Well, don't stand there _staring_. Come here."

"There is no seat for me," said Seladon, stiffly.

The Lords tittered, their eyes glistening with unbridled glee.

"You think I'd have you placed amongst us, Gelfling? Quell your ego. You will sit at my feet, under the table, and eat scraps."

Disgust broke out on Seladon like a sweat. Swallowing, she said, "I am no _pet_."

"Wrong," said the Emperor, languidly.

"Stupid little one," cawed skekOk. "Why do you think you're still _living_?"

"I want to see her _crawl_ ," skekUng growled. "Get on your hands and knees, All-Maudra."

Seladon considered resisting, but when the Emperor leaned across the table towards her she decided it was better to obey than be beaten into submission. Slowly she lowered herself to the floor and crawled to the centre of the table amidst a rain of laughter and taunting. The floor under the table was coated with dropped food, staining Seladon's dress with sticky filth. The smell was appalling, enough to make her retch.

"Stop making that disgusting sound," said the Emperor, aiming a sly kick at her. "It's _unappetizing_."

A laugh threatened to burst out of Seladon at the sheer audacity of the statement, but she held it in as she did her words. She sat gripping her knees, listening to the squall of the Podling choir and ugly Skeksis gossip. From time to time the Empror slid a talon under the table to caress her face or hair, as idly as if she were a tame Fizzgig. She shuddered away from him, her heart in her throat.

"Most _excellent_ Essence today," crooned the Slave Master, loudly gulping from his end of the table. "That Drenchen girl was brimming with vitality."

"A good choice," said skekSil. "Very good choice, but not _best_."

"You're picky," said skekAyuk, smacking his lips. "It has a particularly rich flavour, in my opinion. A shame there isn't more."

Seladon felt herself grow cold with horror. She hadn't realised what filled the Skeksis' goblets, and now she did it made her want to crawl out from under the table and run headlong through the throne room doors. The idea of souls being gulped like ale was _repulsive_ , no better than eating a Gelfling alive. Were they still partially conscious as they were poured down the throats of these monstrous Lords? Did it hurt as they disappeared, drop by drop?

"I'm growing tired of this Podling racket," said the Emperor. "Perhaps the All-Maudra can sing a pleasing tune."

skekSo's chair scraped back and Seladon found herself being dragged out from under the table by her hair.

"She doesn't strike me as much of a songstress," said skekEkt, sneering. "Not with those grating shrills."

"That wasn't _quite_ the singing I meant," said skekSo.

Despite Seladon's kicking and struggling he managed to force her down on her back upon the table, knocking crockery aside. She felt hot food burning her skin and shrieked, unable to believe the levels to which these creatures were willing to sink for their pleasure. They were all staring at her now, their faces slack from the drinking of Essence.

"You'll entertain me while I eat, won't you, Seladon?" said the Emperor.

Not _again_.

Seladon was shocked that skekSo still had the stamina for an assault. The Essence had revived him, stoked the lust in him to a filthy, primal extent. How unlike a monarch he was now as he pulled the red dress up past her breasts, drooling Essence onto her upturned face. A drop of it slipped into Seladon's mouth and she felt her cunt twitch with a sudden volt of dark, terrible ecstasy. She clamped her mouth closed, determined not to let it happen again.

Sliding a finger inside her skekSo let out a thick, clotted growl.

"Ah, you're _wet_ for me, All-Maudra. Does it arouse you to have the eyes of my court upon you?"

Seladon didn't reply, only whimpered miserably. The Emperor filled her with ease, each thrust jolting his fellows' plates. None of them seemed to care, grinning and commenting as they devoured an apparently endless supply of food. Even skekSo continued his meal, holding Seladon down with one hand and reeling handfuls of meat into his beak with the other. Still he rammed her, again and again, making her bones vibrate with the force of it.

Oil and clots of gristle tumbled from the Emperor's mouth, sticking to Seladon's exposed skin. skekSo leaned down to lap it from her breasts, his Essence-coated tongue slipping over her nipple. Again there was a horrible, melting pleasure, making Seladon's stomach churn. It was easy to comprehend now why this liquid was the Skeksis' addiction, but Seladon thought that she'd rather burn her eyes out than ever give in to it. She let out a tight groan of discomfort, and the Emperor raised his head to stare into her eyes.

"You didn't eat from the floor, did you? You must be famished, proud little queen."

He smeared his talon across her lips, forcing a mix of food, wine and Essence between them. Seladon heaved, her vision sparking, and as skekSo gasped his climax she felt her own pleasure reach a high, fragile point, like a death-scream, yet somehow completely silent.

 _Mad_ , she thought, again. _This is how it feels to be insane._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So most of the big changes come in with my main OC buuuut old readers may notice a slight expansion on another plot point I want to delve into more


	4. Nobler To Suffer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seladon makes a decision and the Emperor reflects on the state of his own mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you saw me accidently backdating some of the other chapters no u didn't lol. Thank you Emmy for pointing this out I swear down I know nothing about technology 😂😂
> 
> Soon now the story should appear up top when I update!
> 
> I've expanded a little on the story here, ever so slightly. As I say the biggest change from the first upload appear with the intro of my OC and tbh the alteration may have you shook! But I feel way more content in changing it

_Tonight I will die._

The resolution came as no surprise to Seladon; her first attempt had been inept, half-hearted, the hot-headed spur of a girl. This time the decision came with the methodical planning of a queen, and she was proud of it, of her resolve in the face of the impossible.

The plan had come to her after being washed and returned to the shimmering cave of her room, where in the light of a fresh lamp she'd sat and stared at the many pairs of eyes gazing back. They were so unlike her own, as she recalled them, bright and clever and haughty. Now they were raw and flat, like fish skin, a broken stranger's eyes.

The eyes of the dead.

The decision to die was made over and over with increasing conviction, once when Seladon had coughed the taste of food and Essence into her chamberpot, again when, in wretched boredom, she'd opened the book the Emperor had given her. It was a tome of horrors, every one of them awfully real.

Seladon had only ever read the controlled, false histories of Thra before, written by Gelfling who believed the words of their Lords. _This_ one had been penned by the Scroll Keeper, documenting in agonising detail every horror the Skeksis had ever committed, ever species crushed and tortured into extinction.

Page by page of sickening description scrolled before her eyes, coloured illustrations painstakingly acting out pillage and slaughter so that even when Seladon clapped the book shut she saw it all as clearly as if she was still reading. What _she_ had suffered seemed nothing in comparison to those who'd fallen to the Conquerer, the many Gelfling women the great skekMal had hunted, defiled and devoured before his end.

But Seladon had no doubt that it would get worse, her quality of life crumbling like chalk.

 _No._ That indignity wouldn't be hers. _Couldn't_. Damn the selfishness of death; she should be allowed it, her last will as All-Maudra. If her kin were to perish in agony then she would close her eyes against it forever, go where no Skeksis could taint or drink of her.

Thus she spun her plan, like string around an arrowhead, and awaited her chance.

When Uldre came with the evening meal Seladon addressed her without looking her in the eye.

"Uldre, I- I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight. There is a medicine that would help; I know Lord skekTek keeps it somewhere. Could you get it for me?"

Setting down the plate Uldre pressed her lips together, looking pensive.

"Lord let you have it?" she asked.

"He gave it to me last night. I'm sure he wouldn't mind me having more. Just... try to keep out of his way. The others feasted without him; I'm sure he's in a terrible mood."

Uldre sighed, rubbing her bulbous brow.

"What bottle look like?" she said, at last.

*

A little later Uldre returned, the tiny glass bottle secreted in one of her pockets. Seladon, having scraped her food into the washbasin and flushed it away, tried to appear as if she'd finished eating and was trying to rest. She sat up on her many pillows, flicking the ever-present irritant of the chain over her shoulder.

"You found it! You're _wonderful_."

Shrugging, the Podling said, "Uldre been sent for medicine before. Seladon not first Gelfling stay here."

Her posture drooped, as if the thought saddened her. No wonder: whichever unfortunate Gelflings the Skeksis had made pets of in the past had not survived. Seladon almost went back on her decision, wounded by the thought of making this sweet girl grieve again. Yet wasn't _grieving_ better than seeing a friend suffer to live? Under such circumstances it had to be.

"How much give Seladon?" Uldre asked, turning the bottle over in her hands.

"Oh, _all_ of it," said Seldon.

She kept her face and voice neutral, even dull, as if discussing the climes beyond the castle.

"It's a rather... _weak_ medicine. I'll need a _lot_ to even think about closing my eyes."

The poor girl apparently believed it, handing the bottle to Seladon with no complaint. She drank slowly, trying not to wince at its bitterness. It was odd how calm she felt, accepting, even content, knowing what fate lay at the bottom of the vial.

Once drained Seladon placed the bottle on the bedside table and lay down, already feeling a deep, woozy heaviness behind her eyes.

"Will you lie with me until I fall asleep?" she asked, softly. "I know it's silly but... it will make me feel better."

"Oh, Seladon."

Uldre clambered up onto the bed and lay on her side, her back to Seladon, just as little Brea had, as a child. Thinking of her younger sister brought tears to Seladon's eyes, and she let them fall, knowing that Uldre was unable to see. She put an arm around the Podling, taking comfort from her solid warmth. From the thought that surely Brea would perhaps join her soon, at one with Thra, if she was lucky.

The rhythm of Uldre's breathing fell in with hers, and soon the swirl of thoughts, pain and impending doom shimmered away into cool, into dark. Only faintly was Seladon aware of Uldre squirming gently out of her arms and padding away.

Then there was nothing. _Nothing._

No, _something_ , splitting the dark with roaring noise and violent, shaking motion. This wasn't what death was meant to be- where was the peace, the unity with Thra and the souls of her ancestors? Seladon felt as if she was being gusted through some vast, throbbing sky, like a leaf buffeted by the wind.

She tried tucking herself away into that tranquil black, but the noise was growing louder, and there were sharp things jabbing her, something filling her throat where a throat should be no more-

She convulsed as watery bile forced its way up her gullet, the force of it agonising. Her eyes opened a crack, and she could see figures moving around her, their edges jagged, like a jigsaw of some nightmare. Seladon screamed around the thing in her throat and the dark clapped over her again.

The second time Seladon awoke she understood that she wasn't dead. Somehow the tincture of Milk-poppy had failed; perhaps it was watered down, or she'd been discovered too soon after swallowing it for it to take hold. The sense of failure was colossal. She lay with her eyes closed, sobbing, overwhelmed by how close she'd come to that desperately wanted end.

"Look at me, All-Maudra. I know that you are awake."

The Emperor's voice, quivering with rage. Slowly Seladon raised her lids, even that small motion taking great effort. skekSo was seated beside the bed she lay on, the room around him opulent and unfamiliar. His personal bedchamber, it could only be assumed; he was keeping her where he could keep a close watch over her.

"Tell me how you acquired this," the Emperor demanded, holding the Milk-poppy bottle up.

Seladon curled her lip.

"What does it matter? It failed."

"You defied me. I wish to know _how_."

Turning her head on her pillow Seladon didn't reply. The Emperor shot out a hand and caught her by the chin.

" _Tell_ me or I will have every wretched creature in this castle killed, save for my brothers. You will bathe in their blood. Answer."

 _Uldre_.

Seladon would have to lie, protect her noble, innocent friend. To her surprise the perfect falsehood fell from her lips before her mind had truly processed it  
  
"The Scientist dropped it while gorging himself at the feast. He didn't notice it falling from his robes and rolling under the table. I hid it in my shoe. None of you noticed. Why _would_ you? You were all too blinded by greed and cruelty."

To her relief the Emperor digested this with apparent and immediate belief.

" _skekTek_? That imbecile."

"You're _all_ imbeciles," said Seladon, forcing out a laugh. "And that will be your downfall, in one way or another."

"Such talk, for a stupid girl who failed to die," hissed the Emperor.

He clenched his talons around her throat, squeezing until her voice was a rasp.

"And _why_ did I fail?" asked Seladon. "Let me hazard a guess, skekSo. Was it because you were so desperate to prove your dying virility that you found me cold when you attempted to rape me in the night?"

The Emperor flinched, then lunged forward to snarl in Seladon's face, spittle flying.

"I'll punish you for that when you're recovered, All-Maudra."

She stared into his eyes, unblinking.

"I'll _never_ recover, as long as I'm in this wretched place."

They sat together in hostile silence, the Emperor's hand still around Seladon's throat.

*

The Scientist had been brooding in his private chamber for most of the evening, dejected by yet another snub from the feast. _His_ place, the Emperor had claimed, was in the lab, improving on the faster, quieter subrace of Garthim that skekTek had recently created. Being slighter than their predecessors they'd lost a great deal of their strength, yet although this was a problem that could have waited until after dinner the Emperor's opinion remained unmoved.

In futile protest skekTek had made the minimum progress required before retiring to his dingy room to sulk in peace. However, this was not to last; in the early hours of the morning Podlings came, summoning the Scientist to the All-Maudra's prison-chamber on skekSo's behalf.

The Emperor was already present, roaring at skekTek to revive the wretched girl's cold flesh. The Scientist had huffed, thinking what a waste of scientific potential would been lost if the woman was dead. Much less data could be seived from a corpse than living matter, but perhaps if the All-Maudra couldn't be saved he'd be allowed to keep her body for experiments, discover if any Essence could be siphoned from her marrow.

But the stupid creature _hadn't_ been dead, only very pale, her breathing slow and shallow. Clearly the girl had ingested some poison or other, or been fed something at the feast that disagreed with her frail Gelfling constitution. Grumbling over the bother skekTek had done his best to clear her stomach and airways, then after forcing fluids into her clammy body announced his work was done.

The Scientist was rapidly tiring of the Emperor's obsession with the All-Maudra, with his desire to keep any of her wretched race alive. Admittedly this was part jealouy; unlike skekMal and some of the other Lords skekTek had _never_ been permitted to keep servants, although he would never have expressed this grievance aloud save he give the others more reason to taunt him. Moreover, skekTek was rather bitter that the All-Maudra, a mere prisoner, seemed more privy to events and luxuries he, a Skeksis, was not.

What care had the Emperor for the monarchy he _himself_ had torn down? What about this _All-Maudra_ separated her from a hundred other Vapran females, or males, come to that? Aside from wings and other small physical differences there was very little that marked Gelfling men and women apart, and considering that some men did indeed have wings and women not the gap closed narrower still. All manner of Gelfling people had passed through the castle, tortured and discarded.

What did this All-Maudra have that the others didn't? That _skekTek_ didn't?

Still muttering with discontent the Scientist returned to his room and to his slumber. Only a few hours later he was jerked awake a second time by the door flying open, bouncing precariously on its hinges.

"skekTek," the Emperor snarled, striding into the room. "Would you care to explain how the All-Maudra came to possess _this_?"

The Scientist cowered on his bed as skekSo threw a glass bottle at the floor, shattering it into a hundred shards. The label curled up from the mess: Milk-poppy.

"I... I don't _know_ , Sire," skekTek stammered, uncertainly. "I put it back in my apocethary last two nights ago. I'm certain of it."

He tried not to flinch as the Emperor paced the room, his face wrought with anger. His breath was horribly short, almost a wheeze.

"Indeed?" snapped skekSo. "The Gelfling queen insists that it was on your person at the feast. You _dropped_ it, you thoughtless fool."

"The... the _feast_ , Sire?" skekTek muttered, in disbelief. "But Emperor, I was not in attendance. Don't you remember?"

"What are you implying?" the Emperor thundered, turning on his heel to glare at skekTek. "Why do you doubt my memory? Do you think me addled? _Mind-sick_?"

"No, Sire. No. Of course I don't question Your Excellence's sharp intellect. It's only-"

skekTek paused, looking more closely at skekSo. There was something of madness in his eyes, or, perhaps, a sickness, quick and fleeting. The grim power of the Darkening the Emperor once harnessed had touched his mind; the other Skeksis had whispered of it. Perhaps _this_ was why he was so attached to the All-Maudra, what she'd represented in her crumbling world. The thought of it made skekTek afraid, and at the same time strangely awed.

The Emperor was gazing ahead of him, his expression suddenly and perturbingly calm.

"Yes... yes, you are correct. You _weren't_ present in the dining hall. And yet I believed... I believed so easily..."

"Gelfling are cunning, Sire," said skekTek, relieved the apparent threat of violence had diminished. "The All-Maudra most of all. Lying comes easily to betrayers. Besides, she is arrogant to excess. Pitting you against me, poor, belittled Scientist, so sure you'd never take my word-"

"Imbeciles," the Emperor murmured. "She called us _imbiciles_. All of us."

He gestured to the shattered bottle.

"Where, then, was this bottle retrieved from? For, you see, it was this the All-Maudra drank last night, her second attempt to evade me in death. How _did_ it enter her hands, if not by you? She was locked in a room-less chamber; you saw that for yourself."

"Perhaps she tricked one of the undrained Podlings into it," skekTek volunteered. "It's the only logical conclusion. I was not present in the laboratory all night; my work was mentally laborious, I could only conduct my scientific measures with sufficient rest, and-"

With a guttural snort the Emperor rounded on the door again.

"So in one way or another it _is_ your fault. You should have been at your station, completing your assigned task. No matter; you may forfeit a further week of feasting to repay me for your negligence."

The Scientist bristled with outrage, feeling pure, unbridled hatred towards the All-Maudra, that deceitful _whore's scourge_ of a Gelfling. One way or another he would make her pay for that falsehood.

"Another thing," skekSo said, his talons rapping the doorframe. "You will prepare the apparatus for draining tonight."

Then he was gone, leaving the words hanging heavy in the air.

*

Alone, the Emperor's mind simmered and roiled. He paced the corridors of the castle, seeking peace in the morning still and quiet, but none could be found, driven out by his apoplectic rage. It was directed as much towards himself as to the All-Maudra, for he knew that he was as much to blame for her misbehaviour as she. He'd allowed her the spoils of her own room, the visitations of his servants, freedoms that would stroke her ego into something as hungry and cunning as his own.

She was like him, this woman, in a way, a reflection of what skekSo _could_ have been had he been weak. But as she took arms against life _he_ cleaved to it, a duality he did not like. It boded ill that a creature within the castle walls had attempted to beckon death within, like luring a Rakkida with a bone. skekSo hadn't the time for superstition that some of the other Lords fretted over, but he had enough to be on his guard, to know his grip on the All-Maudra must tighten if she was to remain.

The Emperor crept up to a parapet and stood staring out across Thra, tapping his talons on the windowsill. He was flirting with danger with his need to keep the All-Maudra, and he knew it, but it made him feel more _alive_ than even the Essence did.

It reminded him of something the Hunter had said to him many trine ago, something about the hunt. _Then_ skekSo had scorned him, content with his rule, content to be languid. Now the Darkening had seeded itself into his every cell he knew the sleepless rake of want, what had moved skekMal to devour region after region without ever filling his belly or slaking his lust.

 _This_ , the taking of servants, the draining of Essence. _This_ was the Emperor's hunt, and he couldn't turn his back on it. Seladon was the emblem of its beginning, and although skekSo would likely forget her in death her life spurred him like a shot of pure Essence.

He would not release her, not by death, not by freedom. _Fie_ what the other Lords whispered and muttered in their judgement of him- they'd always had something to gossip over, and this was only the next topic of their whimpering. _Let_ them question him. _Let_ them think him mad- what was madness, after all, but another eye opening to a world the sane and sensible were blind to? Order and collected thought had bound him, _a_ _ll_ of them. Lunacy should be their ally, guiding them towards their true potential, dominion of Thra.

But at the back of skekSo's mind was a small doubt, a terror of himself, of the gliding pieces of his mind he could not anchor. There were time he thought himself in true ownership of his faculties, others when he was so engorged with his own success that he felt things slip, left unaccounted for.

No longer. He would tighten his vice on the All-Maudra and demonstrate to his court that he was as robust in mind and health as ever. They would _see_ , and tremble to have doubted him. The All-Maudra, most of all.

He swept from the tower, leaving that secret moment of distress behind him.


	5. The Chair and the Silverling Royal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seladon is punished and a guest is brought to the castle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For readers of the first version of this story- the big change is at the end of this chapter!! I'll talk a lil about it in the footnotes

It didn't take long for Seladon to realise her lie was not as perfect as it had seemed when leaving her lips. While it had been enough to fool the Emperor momentarily he'd soon realise that he had been lied to, and would doubtless come questioning again. But there was nothing to be done about it now; she had survived, and she would pay for that questionable fortune.

Seladon tried to stand, but within moments she crumpled weakly upon the mattress again. Her body was raw and bruised from whatever the Skeksis had done to cleanse the Milk-poppy from her innards, making her grunt in pain as she tried to inch herself up the mountainous pillows. Gathering what small strength she had Seladon lifted her head and tried to gather at least some information about her new prison.

Besides the vast bed and a few armoirs there was little to see, the latter most likely locked. This room was no better than the mirrored cell; if anything it was worse, stifled in the Emperor's scent. Closing her eyes, Seladon considered the options that lay ahead of her. All boiled down to torture, whether to make her talk or for the sheer, hateful pleasure of it.

Well, wasn't she _used_ to that now? They could break her into pieces like clay and that would be no worse than the throneroom's orgy, or the sin of swallowing the Essence of unknown subjects, the climax it had drawn in liquid death.

Seladon could endure seven hells and more, if she had to, until another day came where she could end herself. But not now. Now she had to steel herself against it.

_Be like Mayrin. Be like Mayrin._

When drained Podlings came to bear her away that night Seladon went with them in silence, letting their ghostly hands guide her teetering steps. Their staring eyes spooked her, devoid of the jovial character they'd once possessed. If there was anything alive inside their tiny heads it was so feeble as to show nothing of itself.

After a few twists and turns Seladon realised that they were taking her to the Chamber Of Life, that ironically named place where she and so many others had once been on the brink of death.

"Does he mean to kill me?" whispered Seladon.

The ghastly Podlings didn't reply, their shrivelled fingers only pushing her further into the room. This was one death that Seladon couldn't stand, the devolution of flesh and soul into feed for the drooling Lords. She felt her hands and feet grow numb with fear.

The Emperor was standing by the dreaded draining chair, skekTek lurking to his left. Beside them a row of shackled, undrained Podling slaves stood, shrinking away from the shaft where the great Crystal lay in wait. Uldre was amongst them, doing her best not to meet Seladon's gaze.

"What _is_ this?" she asked. "Another of your sick parlour games?"

"It's no game, All-Maudra," the Emperor said, coolly. "No; I take your bald lies rather seriously. After all, enslavement alone doesn't seem to have tempered your nasty habit of turning to treachery. Harsher measures must be required."

skekSo jerked the chain holding the undrained Podlings together, causing them to tumble to their knees in clawing distress.

"Considering skekTek was indeed not at the feast, you did not retrieve the poppy-draught from him. One of these fools must have been your accomplice. You will tell me which, or I will drain them all."

The Podlings wailed, begging in their own language with tears and mucus marking their worn faces. Seladon looked away, tears stinging her own eyes.

"Surely this is an easy decision for you," skekSo taunted, his beak parted in a cruel grin. "After how willingly you bargained away your own, what is one filthy Podling life?"

"That- that was wrong of me," Seladon said. "I'm not that stupid little girl anymore."

"Aren't you?" asked the Emperor.

He jerked the first Podling towards the ugly metal chair, signalling for skekTek to fasten it down.

"You were stupid enough to dupe one of these idiotic creatures into doing your bidding and think I would not discover it. You are still small and weak. And you remain a girl, feckless, young, rash. Again you have consigned another to suffer in your stead."

"No!"

Pulling herself free from the drained slaves' grip Seladon ran to the chair and threw her arms across it, barring skekTek's way. Sweat coursed down her forehead from even that meagre effort, and skekTek easily pushed her to the ground.

"Don't hurt them!" Seladon cried. "Punish _me_ instead! Put _me_ in the chair! If someone must be drained then take _my_ Essence!"

The idea of having her soul torn away by the Crystal made Seladon's gut squeeze, but it was the right thing to do, and Seladon knew it. She clawed herself up onto the chair and sat upon it, her chest heaving.

"Idiot," said skekSo. "I have no desire to make you a wizened, mindless crone. Have I not told you I want you pretty, aware of every suffering? Thra, draining you would be a bore."

"You could take a portion without destroying her, Sire," said the Scientist, his head on one side. "I've developed great control over the device. I could gather just enough Essence to weaken her- to _punish_ her, as the All-Maudra so aptly stated."

He shoved the sobbing Podling aside and clamped Seladon's wrists and ankles, his rough hands bruising her. Then without warning he jabbed something sharp into either shoulder, making Seladon yelp as as her skin perforated and bled.

The Emperor circled the chair, looking sceptical.

"This is surely dangerous, considering her sickly condition."

"Oh, I assure you, Sire," said skekTek, his sole, real eye a dark point of malice. "She'll survive."

Seladon felt his talons briefly claw one of her breasts, more from spite than any particular lust for her. Then he turned and began to crank the machine, opening the aperture that would refract the Crystal's foul violet light into her eyes.

Seladon's throat closed up with terror. She saw the Podlings watching nervously, Uldre's lips moving in a silent prayer. A small spark of gladness that her friend was safe comforted her as the machine growled and groaned before her.

"Are you _sure_ this is what you want, All-Maudra?" the Emperor asked, resting on his sceptre. "It will likely hurt far more than any of _my_ ministrations."

"Yes," Seladon hissed. "For Thra's sake, get it _over with_."

It was what she should have done long ago, for her people, taking their burden.

Muttering under his breath skekTek gave a particularly violent jerk of the machine and suddenly it was wide open, a purple splinter of light piercing Seladon's eyes. She felt it sear through her like fire, the pain biting every nerve and synapse in her body. Her skull felt like it was melting through her eardrums, her eyes hot enough to burst. She screamed, the sound ripping through the chamber at such a volume the Podlings all jammed their fingers into their ears, wincing.

"It's only what you deserve, All-Maudra," skekTek taunted, his talons playing over the machine

Seladon could only howl wordlessly in response. She bucked against the restraints, even the sensation of the cold metal chair against her like the scissoring of a thousand tiny blades. Her mind seemed to be unravelling, memories good and bad flitting and shattering. Amidst her agony Seladon felt the Emperor's vicious desire for her like a wave of dark heat.

"Enough," he said.

With an acid glance towards Seladon skekTek slowly ground the machine to a halt, shutting off the Crystal's light. The relief was instantaneous, like draining a wound. Seladon let her head loll against her shoulder, every ounce of energy wrung out of her. She felt utterly violated, almost as much as she did with the Emperor's cock inside her. The residual pain ached in every limb, and she could taste blood on her tongue.

"Free the Podlings from their shackles and send them back to the kitchen," said the Emperor, to skekTek. "Consider this a _mercy_ , worthless creatures. I recognise your innocence; the turncoat All-Maudra masterminded this foolishness. Follow no instruction or requests from her lips, henceforth."

Murmuring hasty apologies the Podlings scurried out of the chamber, only Uldre pulling an apologetic face in Seladon's direction. She mustered enough strength for a thin smile in return. The Emperor, watching her closely, growled in the back of his throat.

"All that agony and you still wear that expression of smug pride. Clearly you have not suffered enough. skekTek?"

"Yes, Sire."

The Scientist, who had been busy rummaging around where Seladon's Essence had collected, emerged holding a small glass vial. Seladon knew that it contained what had been taken from her, and that thought made her so sick that she had to close her eyes to concentrate on not vomiting.

"Look at me, All-Maudra," said the Emperor. "Face your Lord and Master."

"You're no Lord, and certainly no Master," breathed Seladon.

Every word was like a dagger in her throat. skekSo cuffed her cheek with the back of his hand, forcing her eyes open again.

"You will obey me, Gelfling. Open your mouth."

The Scientist had given skekSo the vial, which he was now holding to her lips. Seladon clamped them shut, remembering that awful, orgasmic spark she'd experienced from those spilled drops at the feast. Tutting, the Emperor turned the bottle out into his hand and led the viscous fluid run over his fingers.

"There are other ways to ingest Essence, All-Maudra. I've always been curious of what effect such a thing would have on the very creature that produced it."

Moaning in horror Seladon fought against her restraints again. Smirking the Emperor ignored her, yanking her dress beyond her hips, gliding his coated fingers down between her thighs, upon his own hardened flesh, thrusting inside her. Seladon's eyes rolled back and the violent white song of ecstasy plunged her into semi-consciousness again.

It was like coming on the blade of a sword, her cunt seizing with each awful strike. Seladon couldn't understand why this alone hadn't killed her, why she had to feel herself pulsing as her worst enemy lay upon her.

"Sire," skekTek said suddenly from where he'd been watching the proceedings from across the chamber. "The Gelfling is... _bleeding_."

"No different from the _other_ times I've taken her, then," said the Emperor, through panting breaths.

His eyes were glossy with pleasure, and Seladon felt how engorged he was by the appliance of Essence between them.

"No, Emperor," said the Scientist. "Not that I care much for her welfare, but you desire her alive, so might I suggest..."

Hissing, skekSo pulled out of Seladon and looked down. She screamed, the simple motion of his cock gliding from her body eliciting another sick pang. Slowly she glanced between her legs, and her cries narrowed to a terrified whimper. There was blood coating her inner thighs amongst the white of her own Essence.

"Hmph. Unexpected," said the Emperor "I've pushed her too far too quickly, I suppose. Pity to let this go to waste, however."

skekSo crouched between Seladon's strapped-down legs and lapped the Essence from between them, his tongue deliberately tipping her clitoris until she bucked and shrieked in another hideous, uncontrollable paroxysm. Each time nightmare images opened in her mind like decomposing flowers- her mother dying in a sea of pink, herself crushed under a sea of drooling Skeksis, her pretty dress tattered -and she bit her tongue, hoping another point of pain would draw her mind away.

"Interesting effects," skekTek mumbled. "Her own Essence is harming her. I could perhaps study her, develop ways of producing even more intense extractions of Essence. I-"

"You can use other Gelflings as your playthings," skekSo snapped, shaking blood from his face. "The All-Maudra is mine. Your carelessness is quite enough."

" _My_ carelessness? I, who had my laboratory burgled by some upstart female?"

"Listen when I command something of you and be silent!" barked the Emperor.

He rose to his feet, licking the last of Seladon's Essence from his teeth. She watched him from beneath tear-glued eyelids, hating him, wishing the foul silvery fluid would rot him as it seemed to have done to her.

"Release her," said the Emperor.

The Scientist obeyed, his talons nicking her, then cast Seladon to the floor like a sack of old bones. She pressed herself to the cold stone, letting it soothe her throbbing flesh.

"I hope you've _learned_ something, All-Maudra," said skekSo, icily. "Your life is mine. You will remain at my side, a pretty little toy, and you'll behave as such. And if you try please me I might even extend certain privileges to you. A generous offer, don't you think, considering how easily I could snuff out your life?"

"I'll never please you, not by choice," Seladon croaked.

She didn't even raise her head to look at him.

"Clearly you have no self-respect or preservation, then. So let me frame it this way, All-Maudra. If you do not obey I will ensure that for every insolence you display your precious sister will suffer for it. Is that quite clear?"

"My sister is not here."

"Not now, but she _will_ be. I told you that I'd make her your companion, and that time will come sooner rather than later. A group of Garthim has been sent to retrieve her by any means; your little friends will be so occupied trying to defend themselves that they won't notice one small Vapra spiriting away- just as you were so easily taken from under their noses only days ago. _This_ time, perhaps we'll take the whole group at once. Either way, they will fall to us."

"Aughra will not let you," Seladon cried. "Thra will not let you."

skekSo bent and swept his arm under Seladon, lifting her as easily as a doll. She lay bent double over his arm, head hanging.

"Let the old witch try. She's all talk. And Thra- we've been draining your land for so many trine that it has no choice but to yield to us."

The Emperor carried her back to his chamber, the suffocating luxury of it making her feel even worse. Though by now the Essence had all gone she felt herself twitching occasionally, as if her nerves consciously remembered the pain. The pain, and the monstrous pleasure of it.

"You will remain here until you earn the right to privacy again," said skekSo. "I doubt you comprehend how well I have treated you until this day. Gowns, your own room, Podlings to attend to you- of course you are a spoiled little queen, far too accustomed to finery. Such things are as common as air to you."

"I don't _want_ any of it."

skekSo grasped the front of Seladon's dress and wrenched it from her, torn fabric chafing her sides as it whisked away. She didn't have the energy to cover herself.

"You think you'd prefer it if I left you rotting naked in your own filth at the bottom of some cell, as skekTek or skekUng would have you? It has even been suggested that I cut your hair and clip your wings, remove every tooth and fingernail as skekMal, the Hunter, once did to one of his wayward slaves, many trine ago. It was quite the balm for her ego, or so I was informed. She begged for death even more than you do."

Swallowing, Seladon closed her fingers into fists and drew her shivering feet beneath her.

"You would have bowed beneath the suffering that wretched creature endured. The Hunter was a beast. His pets lived in squalor, were maimed until they became just short of monsters. But this you do not comprehend."

"I don't want to know."

"Oh, I'm sure. You see, Seladon," the Emperor said, gliding a talon idly across her body. "You are blinded by privilege. Even now you do not see that there are so many who have suffered and _will_ suffer more than you. Even when I speak of the dead it is _your_ loss you weep for, not theirs."

"There are too many to cry for now."

skekSo laughed, and turned away.

"How unlike an All-Maudra you are. Perhaps I'll think of a better title for you."

He turned and left the chamber, leaving her staring, horror-struck, into the gloom.

*

The days passed slowly, the routine of being bathed and fucked continuing with a maddening regularity. Without sunlight it was the only way Seladon could chart the hours, meaning she was forced to look forward to each assault as much as she hated them.

The Emperor had abandoned the ceremony of dragging her in front of the others for the time being; Seladon sensed her near-success in killing herself had left him with considerable chagrin. Instead he came at night with her evening meal, the only one which she was now permitted. She would be dressed, jewelled, fragranced with oils, her stomach snarling with hunger. skekSo would watch her eat then push her back into the bedclothes, stripping her silks and velvets to access the softness beneath.

A ring of white scarring had formed inside Seladon where her Essence had burned, and this made the Emperor's ministrations even more painful and tight. He was spurred by her winces of pain, so she tried to lie still, passive. This worked well until a week later the Emperor raised her by the chain at her throat and shook her, making her teeth rattle together.

"Ignore me all you like, girl. But tomorrow you will take heed. I have a surprise waiting for you."

He said no more, but Seladon suspected what that would be.

Or _who_.

But Brea couldn't be here. She _couldn't_. Her sister wouldn't last a day of Seladon's torment; she was too young, too innocent, too precious. One might as well trample a skeleton leaf, grinding a heel until it was dust. It would be her death.

"You have my _sister_ ," said Seladon. "You must let me see her at once."

"I _must_ do nothing," said the Emperor, curtly, pulling her hands free of his neck. "You cannot command me, Seladon. Besides, you make great assumptions as to the identity of our guest."

"It is someone close to me, or you wouldn't toy with me like this. Let me see them."

skekSo turned his head, feigning a yawn.

"I think not. You will wait until the morning, when I am rested enough to receive visitors."

Seladon could well imagine what that meant.

"Where is Brea?"

"Our guest resides in what should be your chamber, if you hadn't misbehaved. Untouched, as I have requested. You needn't look so distraught."

He pushed her down, running a talon across her lips.

"If this captive is who they claim to be I quite look forward to seeing you together."

Seladon closed her eyes, sickened. As the Emperor's foul shaft glided in and out of her Seladon tried and tried to think of some way she could get Brea away from the castle, if Brea it indeed was, some way to help her slip her fate, but Seladon could think of nothing. _Nothing_.

Perhaps she could at least try to help Brea end her life before it became too much, smothering her with a bedpillow as she slept so that she would never know it. But Seladon wasn't sure that she'd even have the courage or stomach for that mercy.

When skekSo finished with her he stood and dressed; rarely did he sleep in his own chamber now, for he tended to have bad dreams and was loathe to allow Seladon to witness it. The few times she had the Emperor had struck her out of shame and rage, threatening to have her killed if she breathed a word of it to anyone. That had made her laugh; now she didn't dare speak to Uldre who did she have left to confide in?

The night passed slowly. Seladon spent much of it staring into the dark, maddening herself with worry. When the morning rolled around she was almost grey with exhaustion, the bags under her eyes each deep as a crevasse. Even the makeup Uldre put on Seladon in the dressing room did little but make her look paler still in contrast to the garish colours.

 _"Ti si bolestan_ , All-Maudra? Sick?" asked Uldre.

It was the first time since the night of the Milk-poppy that the Podling had addressed a question to her, performing any tasks in fearful silence. Seladon didn't answer, only shaking her head. She felt that if she opened her mouth to speak she would be sick, or cry, and she didn't want to appear weak. Not today.

Dressed in violet gauze and strings of gold Seladon allowed herself to be led to the throneroom, each step slower than the first. She wanted to scour herself of the images the Emperor had put into her head, thoughts of violating her own blood, of cruelties she could not help. If such things occured she'd rot into soft darkness on the inside, like fruit left in the sun.

"You are late, All-Maudra," the Emperor chastised, beckoning her from his ornate throne. "Come sit at my feet. Your beloved relative is here to see you."

Keeping her head bowed Seladon walked down the centre of the room, past the snickering Skeksis court, past skekUng gripping a pale Gelfling by the back of the neck to hold it still, a Gelfling Seladon refused to look at until she had to. She couldn't bear the thought of gazing into Brea's soft, beautiful eyes, knowing what suffering awaited her. She-

"How _rude_ of you to snub your sibling, Seladon," said skekSo, tapping the top of Seladon's bejeweled head. "Lovely though you look with your eyes on the floor, I bid you to raise them. See how _kind_ your Emperor is, returning your dear Prince to you. Or so he claims to be."

_Prince?_

Seladon glanced up at last. She stared, transfixed, not knowing whether to weep or laugh in wild abandon. The Gelfling dangling, wide-eyed, from skekUng's grip was not Brea- he _looked_ like her, certainly, the face so uncannily similar that Seladon was only able to tell the difference from a change in expression. But the Gelfling had no wings and was dressed in clothes Seladon had never seen her sister wear before: a commoner's garb, although styled as to mimic the fashions of the fallen Vapra court.

The boy's dark eyes caught hers flashing a message- _go along with this, claim me as yours_ -were so much like her sister's, and yet _not._

Seladon did not know who he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO I guess this is a spoiler? But when I originally was writing this story I wrote from chapter to chapter and let the story and characters tell themselves. 
> 
> Originally the Prince arrived at the castle disguised as Brea- and while it was as very Shakespearian/Twelth Night vibe realistically that disguise would be unlikely to stand up long, nor is it genuinely necessary as a plot device. It just had a lot of issues I won't necessarily go into rn but this has actually been on my mind for I while but it's only this month I bit the bullet and decided to address it!
> 
> I won't expand too much on this change as I'm going to try and retain a lot of the original themes and scenes of the story despite this alteration. But even though I yeeteed the whole original file I'm just glad I'm getting it back up so yall still have the story :)


	6. And Let Me See Thee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The 'Prince' stands before the court

_A Prince._ What _Prince?_

Seladon, looking at the stranger who might have been Brea in another life, wanted to laugh, but she took great care to conceal it, forcing her expression to remain a perfect blank.

"Do you not recognise your _Prince_ _Silvan_?" said the Emperor. "No doubt he _yearns_ for your consolation. Your _friends_ abandoned him with some other throwaway Gelfling; would you believe such a thing? He was meant to be taken in your _sister's_ stead, no doubt to sate our appetite, for a time. This poor fool has been disposed of."

The Emperor leaned down towards Seladon, his eyes narrow slits of terrible sapphire. 

"But the fact of it is that there _are_ no male Vapra royals, _are_ there, Seladon?"

"Not a single one on record," skekOk piped up from the side of the room. "Only three royal sisters. I've recorded the family tree extensively, and have it committed to memory, line for line."

"I've _told_ you," said the boy, scowling from under a frond of white-blonde hair. "Nobody _knew_ about me. Thra, even _I_ didn't know about me. Seladon herself didn't meet me until the rebellion. As far as the world was concerned I didn't exist- and now I do."

 _His voice_ , thought Seladon. _He_ sounds _like Brea too. No wonder they all half-believe this rigmarole. We could be related, if one didn't know better._

"Such tall tale," said the Chamberlain, coolly. "Lies to distract court from pursuit of war. After all, _how_ could such story be possible?"

The Vapra boy cast the Skeksis a haughty look. Again Seladon suppressed a laugh- hadn't _she_ given others that same look, before her fall from grace?

"I think you'll find that it _is_ possible, and very true," said the boy. "I was born during the All-Maudra's younger and, dare I say, _wilder_ years. My father was a Sifa pirate, and _I_ was no Princess- no use to the royal line, since I couldn't take the throne. Mayrin was a traditionalist, after all. She sent me away to be raised by another woman far from the reaches of the castle-"

"I've heard gossip," said skekEkt, excitedly. "The old All-Maudra _was_ quite the rascal before she cleaved to her duties. It's not the first I've heard of some illegitimate child burrowed away in the slums of Ha'rar."

The boy- Silvan? -glanced quicky at Seladon while the Skeksis were distracted by the possibility of having snared an unknown royal, and held her gaze.

 _He really expects me to to along with this,_ thought Seladon. _How long has this plan been in place? Why wasn't I told of it? Why wasn't there a similar one devised for_ me _before they came for me_?

"Prince... Prince Silvan speaks the truth," said Seladon, weakly.

All the Skeksis turned to stare at her in surprise and fascination.

"My- my brother announced himself to me only an unnum ago. His adoptive mother had never intended him to know the truth, nor did my- nor did Mayrin. He was her shame. But this plot my Lord Emperor speaks of- I was not aware of it. I would _never_ consign a sibling of mine to this fate, even to protect my youngest sister from harm. And surely the _other_ Maudras would not do such a thing in my stead."

"Oh, they _did_ ," said skekUng, his tiny eyes flinty with disgust. "The Garthim found the remnants of a camp with these few stragglers left behind. Perhaps they thought their lives worth discarding as a distraction to slow our troops. Regardless, we _will_ persevere until the rest of them are found and captured, the Vapra Princess included."

"What of the _others_ you retrieved?" the Emperor enquired. "Are they of any particular calibre?"

skekUng grunted.

"Not especially. A few grizzled Spriton. Their Essence will be poor stock."

"I'm sure skekTek can make something of them, nevertheless. Now, Seladon, your brother. Acknowledge him, won't you? I am surprised by your restraint."

It was such a horrible, ridiculous situation that Seladon found herself stiffly obeying, as mechanical as a wind-up toy.

"Welcome, Silvan. I wished you'd never come this place. I never hoped to see your face again so soon."

The Gelfling who looked so like Brea ducked his head, a frond of hair falling across his face. If it _had_ really been Brea she would have objected stridently, kicked and glared in outrage at her situation. Seladon willed the boy to keep his wild spirit, not bow and slip into servitude, or worse, hopelessness.

"I _still_ do not trust him," said the Scroll Keeper, squinting suspiciously through his eyeglasses. "It seems rather too _convenient_ , this tale of his. I will research his claim thoroughly for falsehood."

"Until one is found then we must take the All-Maudra and the _alleged_ Prince for their word," said the Emperor, who had been observing the proceedings in greedy silence. "If this _is_ indeed some elaborate lie to divert my attention from capturing Brea for my collection then _both_ of them shall be severely punished. Moreover- my attention cannot be so easily swayed. As skekUng elaborated, the pursuit will continue."

Seladon felt fearful bile ease to the back of her throat. She hoped that Brea was hiding far, far from the Garthim Master's clutches.

"He _is_ untouched, I trust?" asked the Emperor, glancing at skekUng.

"He has been in the All-Maudra's private chambers all night," said the Garthim Master, his beak parted in a sneer. "Too luxurious a prison for rebel filth, but it was on _your_ orders, Emperor. This is the first time I've laid a hand on him since he was brought to the castle."

"And _that_ is the furthest you will go," said the Emperor. "You may find your own prize; the Prince is mine. He and the All-Maudra make a pretty matching set."

" _Yours_?" said Silvan, sharply. "Never. Not even on the day the Brothers go out and Thra becomes dust."

"A sentiment I've heard before, eh, Seladon?" the Emperor said wryly, gliding a talon down beneath the All-Maudra's chin. "Well, I'm sure you'll change your tune, _Prince_."

"Perhaps it would be best for me to prepare my brother for a private audience," said Seladon, before any further comment could be made. "If my Emperor will allow it. It is only fitting that I, All-Maudra, instruct my brother in the ways of court."

"What do _you_ know of such things?" skekEkt cawed, laughing. "You see little but the Emperor's bed and your dressing room; you're about educated on courtly matters as a bath-house whore!"

"Quiet," skekSo rumbled. "Don't be insolent. You're merely envious you've had nothing but the Podlings to play with."

"Not even them," said skekEkt, archly. "I have better taste than that."

"My Emperor," said Seladon.

She arched her neck, causing the Emperor's hand to slip down onto her collarbone. From the corner of her eye she saw the Vapra boy staring at her.

"'My Emperor'," skekSo mocked, coldly. "I know _you_ do not think me as such, Seladon. If you're thinking of conducting some grand escape scheme with your brother then forget it. You will _never_ be in such a position."

"I only wish to _comfort_ him," said Seladon. "His time here will be unhappy. Can't you give us at least a moment alone together?"

"Sentimental of you. Still, I think _not_."

Closing her eyes, Seladon exhaled softly. Then she said, just loud enough for him to hear, "If you will let me prepare him without Podlings observing us I will do whatever you wish to him. And to my _sister_ , when she is captured. I will think of things _you_ may not."

The Emperor leaned in close to her, his eyes like glossy little beads.

"Now that is how to persuade me. I'll hold you to those words, pretty queen. I will enjoy watching you perform together. It will sate my appetite until your sister is brought to my throne. I will have you warm her untouched cunt for my cock."

Straightening up, skekSo cleared his throat.

"skekUng, take Prince Silvan and the All-Maudra to the bath house and guard the door."

"Hmph. You indulge them, Emperor," said the Garthim Master, spitting at the floor in disgust. "Follow me, Gelfling."

Seladon quickly rose to her feet, gathering her skirts, and trotted after the Skeksis, wincing as the Vapran boy was dragged by the hair as she had often been on that very floor. The stranger's similarity to Brea was uncomfortable; Seladon felt that she might as well be watching her sister's torture, after all.

"I'll be listening for any mischief," said skekUng, grasping Seladon by the shoulder as she passed him to enter the bath house door. "Unlike the Emperor I have no desire to keep your pathetic hide in one piece. If you _dare_ disobey his orders I will beat you until every bone is broken."

"You need not threaten me," snapped Seladon. "I will not bring punishment down on my brother."

Once the door was closed Seladon rounded on the stranger, who after being unceremoniously shoved down onto the bath house floor had scrambled back up onto his feet.

"Where on _Thra_ is Brea?" she hissed. "Is she _safe_?"

The Vapra boy's face broke out into an irreverent grin, quite unlike Brea's own placid smile.

"The first question is supposed to be 'who are you?', isn't it? But I digress. As the Skeksis said, our group has gone into hiding, although I can't say where, and Brea is still among them. Safe as safe can be."

 _Relief_. Seladon had forgotten how sweet such an emotion could feel.

"Then... why were you and the others _caught_?" she asked, cautiously.

"Well," said the boy, stretching his arms behind his head. "When you were taken the remaining Maudras counselled and decided to rush their plans forward, _and_ to make a few new ones. I had a good hand in it all, just to let you know."

The Vapra gestured to his chest with a flourish.

"We were all volunteers, us captives. Part of a bigger plot. Our group is developing ways of passing intelligence in and out of the castle; they're almost finished, although we're far from any escape or rescue plans. But never fear, those of us who _aren't_ sent for draining will do our best on that front."

The boy winked and added, "Besides, we wanted to give the Skeksis a little victory. The winning side is bound to get sloppy and overconfident. And what _better_ victory than capturing a mysterious Prince? They think they've struck gold."

Seladon felt another brief flare of relief and joy, then a stab of horror. She sat on the rim of one of the baths, wringing her hands together.

"You're meant to be _pleased_ , All-Maudra," the stranger said, his grin slipping a little. "The Princess is well. It'll be _me_ in one of those iron collars, _not_ her. I don't mind that, not really. Thra, this is a part I've wanted to play for trine."

He lifted an imaginary crown and twirled in a childish circle.

"I don't understand," said Seladon, bemused.

"You will," said the boy, grinning. "Let me start at the beginning. My name _is_ actually Silvan, minus the Prince bit, obviously. But you may call me that, if you like. I'm an actor, a treader-of-the-boards, an infamous member of the Ha'rar theatre troupe. You've perhaps seen me perform for you and your esteemed family over the years, although- _lovely_ as it is -I doubt you recall a commoner's face. I look rather different in other guises."

"I'm afraid I _don't_ remember you," said Seladon, smiling weakly. "But I can believe it."

"I've played many illustrious roles," Silvan continued. "Generally female- men have the _dullest_ stories, so I'd be wasted there, wouldn't I? Anyway, I've simply been dying to play a royal, but political charades have always been forbidden, blasphemous. Such a pity. So of course when I heard of this distraction plot I just had to volunteer myself. I'm no use in combat or any such thing- look at me, built like a Fizzgig's whisker! But performing- well, consider this _my_ war effort, All-Maudra."

When Seladon didn't respond the boy leaned against one of the great baths and lowered his voice, clearly attempting to soften her.

"I _know_ this Prince thing is a bit risky. I _did_ suggest being taken in disguised as your charming sister, and honestly, they should have let me try my hand at it. I look enough like her that I believe this whole ruse myself. Even the _Princess_ sees it in me. I quote: 'better than mirror', she said. A compliment beyond compliments, don't you think?"

"But it wouldn't have _worked_ ," Seladon cried, wretchedly. "And _this_ won't, either. I appreciate what you've done for our kind, but the Emperor will find out that you're not who you say you are, and it'll all be for nothing."

"Well, _eventually_ , I suppose," said Silvan, shrugging. "But he seemed suitably fooled back there. All of them did, except the one with the glasses and that slithering Chamberlain."

Lowering her head, Seladon said, "The Emperor will only humour this stupid game until he tires of you. Then he'll turn on you. That might be sooner than later."

She began to pace the bath-house floor in agitation. 

"Can't you guess why I'm still alive? Why he didn't have me drained?"

The boy shrugged, tossing his silky hair over one shoulder.

"To _torment_ you, I assume. They're a petty lot."

"And what _manner_ of torment? Look at me. Think of the Emperor's words. Must I spell it out?"

A tear slipped from her right eye, and Silvan's cocky air faded.

Crossing his arms over his chest he said, "You mean the Skeksis... _violate_ you. That's really something they want from us? I thought we were _beneath_ them, or something."

"Yes, but it doesn't matter. They do it anyway. It's been going on even longer than you or I could ever imagine. Even longer than the draining. The Emperor- he has this idea of collecting the royal line, no doubt only starting with mine. Keeping us as pets while our friends and loved ones die, and then ending us when he tires of the game. And when he realises you're _not_ my brother, that you're not a royal at all... he will probably kill you. Then he'll hunt Brea with every resource he has."

Silvan's face paled, and for a moment Seladon thought he might cry too. Then he turned his back on Seladon, his shoulders tight under his thin tunic.

"Well, it might not come to that for some time."

He began to undress, throwing each garments aside. Seladon glanced aside, flushing, catching a glimpse of taut slenderness, a curl of silvery white hair.

"What are you you _doing_?" she asked him.

"We're in the bath house. I'm taking a _bath_. Might as well make the most of this damned luxury."

Silvan ran the faucets, leaning on the tub as it slowly filled. Despite his confident demeanor there was something stiffer and harder about his poise, _determined_. It saddened Seladon, yet at the same time filled her with admiration. _This_ was a strength she hadn't felt herself in some time, and while she knew it would be quickly ground out of him she stole a little of it for herself.

"I will protect you, Silvan. You, our people, and Brea."

*

"Is this what it's _always_ like?" asked Silvan.

They were sitting in the Emperor's bedchamber together, Seladon picking at her fingernails, Silvan smoothing the crisp sleeve of a ruffled shirt with the lordly arrogance of a Prince. His ears twitched from time to time, the only indication at all that he was nervous.

"We have no choice," said Seladon. "Besides, I'm used to it."

"Ever the stiff upper lip," said Silvan. "I'm an actor, All-Maudra; you can't pretend around me."

The boy closed his mouth as the door opened and the Emperor stole in, looking greedier than ever.

"Your brother is sufficiently _prepared_ , I take it?" he asked Seladon. "Not that it matters to me, of course."

"You speak as if I can't hear you," snapped Silvan, his angered tone so similar to Brea's that Seladon's chest squeezed. "How about you talk to _me_ instead of my sister? Aren't I meant to be your new toy?"

"Naive boy," said skekSo, softly. "You think your _alleged_ royal blood lends you importance. You are supplementary, an inferior. _Your_ head was not made for the crown. Therefore, _you_ are worth less than your sisters, if relations they really are."

He moved towards Seladon, touching her breasts through the purple chiffon.

"Keep your rotting claws _off_ her," said Silvan, scrambling to his feet.

The Emperor turned and struck Silvan with a backhand, driving him into a dresser. A drawer bounced open, and skekSo's eyes fell upon the contents.

"You're spirited, I'll give you that. Perhaps I'll drain you, one day, a little at a time. But for now-"

Seladon saw the Emperor pull a second iron collar and chain from the drawer and quickly move to snap it at Silvan's throat. He gasped as the Emperor dragged him kicking across the bedchamber and clamped the chain to a ring bolted to the wall in one corner.

" _You_ can watch me put the All-Maudra to work at the only task she is good for."

He returned to the bed, smacking Seladon across the face so that she fell, yelling, into the pillows.

"You will teach your brother decorum," skekSo snarled. "And then learn it _yourself_."

"I've done _nothing_ to warrant this treatment," Seladon said.

The Emperor twisted her head to one side, forcing her to face Silvan.

"Look at your brother as I fill you. I will have every inch of him, in time, as will you."

He mounted Seladon quickly, not bothering to lubricate her. The pain of the dry thrust made Seladon whimper, but she gritted her teeth, determined not to humiliate herself in front of the boy. Even through his face remained fierce and disgusted Seladon saw the true pain behind his eyes.

The Emperor twisted Seladon's breasts in his fists, pulling them taut until she felt the tissue strain under the skin. His hands were cold, and she could feel him shaking. The sickness devouring him was particularly bad today; the stink of decay was thick on his breath, and foul liquid was seeping beneath the mask on his beak.

Yet still he fucked her, grinding his cock into her with such vicious, gloating aggression that skekSo's many robes and jewels rubbed her skin raw in a dozen places.

As he came the Emperor snarled against Seladon's cheek, his cock twitching inside her. Across the room Silvan quietened, drawing himself into a ball almost as Brea would have. Clearly he was beginning to realise his helplessness in the role he had taken, far from the heroism of his theatric fantasies. 

"Open your mouth, slattern," said the Emperor, thickly.

Shuddering, Seladon did so. skekSo leaned forward and hawked a mouthful of purple-black slime onto her tongue, squeezing her throat so that she was forced to swallow.

"There's my good pet. Now, _Prince_ , what to do with you?"

The Emperor crossed the room and seized up Silvan's chain. Clearly he knew better than to attack skekSo for he flinched away, his eyes scrunched small with hatred.

"I _was_ intending to inflict this upon you, or such like, but perhaps using your vicious tongue is a more fitting entry to your position as my whore. Get on the bed and clean my seed from your sister."

"I'd rather throw myself out of a window," said Silvan, the defiant note in his voice wavering. 

"Such pointless arguing," said skekSo. "Your death will come by my hand alone."

He kicked the back of Silvan's knees, making him stumble against the bed. Before he even had time to catch his breath the Emperor grasped the back of his skull by the hair and rammed the boy's face between Seladon's thighs like a childling making a Fizzgig drink milk. Flushing, Seladon tried not to look at the back of his pretty head, so small and delicate in the Emperor's palm. She felt the point of Silvan's tongue circle the bud of her clitoris, soft, tickling laps of evident skill.

"No," she murmured.

She didn't _want_ to feel good, not _here_ , not _now_.

Silvan glanced up, his large, dark eyes meeting hers. A little quiver of pleasure ran through her, and she clenched her jaw, trying to mask it as revulsion.

 _No. No. No_.

*

"It could have been worse," said Silvan, after the Emperor had gone.

The boy was sitting at the end of the bed, wiping his wet mouth on the sleeve of his robe. His white hair, sticky with sweat, was glued to his back like runnels of silver.

" _Worse_?" said Seladon, shrilly. "Yes, I suppose it could have. But it didn't go especially _well_ , either."

She crawled into bed, under the sheets, pulling them primly over her. In her time with the Emperor she'd almost forgotten shame, but in the presence of a Gelfling male her own age she felt those old, strange trappings come over her again. Recalling the pointed tongue between her legs made her writhe with humiliation and secret arousal

 _Why_ had her body given itself up so easily, in such a sickening situation? Seladon barely knew this Gelfling, and besides, he looked so much like Brea that even now, slouched boyishly at the end of the bed, it was hard to unsee him as her little sister, and what they had done together as terribly wrong

"I'd take another bath, if it was offered," said Silvan. "I can smell that rotten old bird all over me and he hardly touched me. What's wrong with him? Is he _sick_?"

Seladon nodded.

"You know he once possessed the Darkening, at least until Deet of the Grottan clan took it from him. His body was ravaged by it. Drinking our Essence seems to only do so much to recover him, or perhaps the other terrible things he does makes his flesh succumb in spite of it. I don't know. And speaking of Deet- has anyone _seen_ her? The last I heard she disappeared into the Endless Forest and... wouldn't let Rian follow."

"Sadly not," said Silvan. "Seems she doesn't want to be found."

A small relief, there. Another friend safe.

"She must stay away," said Seladon. "If the Skeksis ever capture and contain her the things they'd do to her... after all, the Emperor must want that power back, no matter the cost. No matter what trying to claw it back does to _her_. Deet is much safer out there in the woods than with her kin. In a way the Darkening protects as much as it destroys."

They were quiet for a moment, thoughtful, not looking at one another. Then Silvan said, "I should probably expect to be interrogated sooner or later, shouldn't I? For information, I mean."

"I don't know," said Seladon. "I- I thought that was why they'd taken me- one of many reasons, at least -but so far they haven't asked me _anything_. The Emperor seems to think I'm stupid, or that the other Gelfling don't include me in their decisions. Or perhaps he thinks we're unprepared and have no plans at all. I'm not entirely sure."

Silvan glanced back at her.

"Don't get too comfortable," he said. "I've watched a dozen similar tales play out on stage, you know, and there's always some scheme or ulterior motive no matter how base or short-sighted the villain at first appears. I bet you anything they're softening us up for questioning. Waiting for a weak moment."

"I can't remember the last time I _wasn't_ weak," said Seladon, bitterly. "skekSo has had a hundred chances to force knowledge from me, but he only- _uses_ me. Before you came I- I tried to end my life. More than once. I've struggled to see an end to this tortured darkness. I-"

"All-Maudra," said Silvan, reached across to grasp her hand. "You're not fated to die here, I know it. You have to know that, too. And if you forget it, I'll remind you. I'm good at that, if for nothing else. You may have have noticed I'm quite the talker."

Seladon was taken aback by this familiar gesture. Silvan's hand in hers was hot, damp, and surprisingly strong considering the boy's frail physique. She quickly drew her own away, flustered.

"How _can_ you know?" she asked. "How _can_ you be sure I won't be drained and enslaved forever?"

Shrugging, Silvan said, "I'd say fate, destiny, something spiritual, but I just feel it. And my feelings are rarely wrong."

"Alright," said Seladon, laughing a little. "I'll take your word for it. But how are we going to avoid an inquisition? Or prevent the Emperor from learning who you really are?"

"We can't. We just prolong it, feed into their weaknesses, that we know of, distract and mislead for as long as we can until we get wind of an escape plan. Make things up; they'll believe at least some of it, surely?"

"I've _tried_ that. And as greedy as they are the Skeksis are _not_ fools, not entirely. Besides, the Emperor has threatened to harm Brea if I cross him again- and harm you."

"Well, I can take a beating."

Narrowing her eyes Seladon said, "You _know_ he wishes to do more than that."

Silvan stood up and paced the room.

"Well, I'm no pure snowflower. I've been around, here and there. I won't bore you with the details. There is _little_ he can do to shock me."

"Are you _sure_ you can bear it?" asked Seladon. "All those weeks serving him, touching me..."

"I've already promised that. It's _you_ I worry about, All-Maudra. I don't want- to hurt you."

"You didn't."

Casting her eyes down Seladon tried to flush filthy thoughts from her mind, struggling fruitlessly against them.

_His tongue and small fingers inside me, inside me, inside..._

"It's as you say," she muttered. "I'll endure. I have to."


	7. Chataranga

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Prince is tortured; Seladon frets over the future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New things added! Finding out more about Seladon's background is going to be woven into this version of the story

Seladon and Silvan were not left alone long before Uldre appeared at skekSo's bedchamber door.

"Emperor say go back your room," she announced, casting a quick, cautious look at Silvan.

He looked fiercely back, mistrust bristling all over him.

"She's a friend," said Seladon, quietly. "The Podlings are no more allies to the Skeksis than we are. They're slaves."

The boy relaxed, and straightened up with a dramatic yawn and cracking of joints.

"Well, let's go then, shall we? I don't think I can stand another moment of this tastless decor."

A smile touched Seladon's lips.

"And _ours_ is any better?"

Once they were alone in the gloomy, mirrored room a slightly awkward feeling emerged between them, particularly as they both wordlessly acknowledged the presence of the single bed. Silvan walked restless rings from wall to wall, kicking at the pile of books on the floor.

"What's _this_ rubbish? Lamp-lighting material?"

"Close enough," said Seladon. "They're histories of the Skeksis' many unpleasant deeds. It's the only entertainment skekSo seems to think appropriate for me, but I don't think I could _bear_ to read another line of it."

"I could do a dramatic reading," Silvan offered. "It might improve the content a little."

"You can _read_?" asked Seladon, surprised.

She flushed at the roll of Silvan's eyes; although most Gelfling were illiterate she supposed that it was a rude and patronising question.

"Well," said Silvan. "I suppose I had an unusual childhood. My mother was part of a band of artists, poets, and actors; they were _always_ reading something or other, and I picked up a few languages so that I could keep up with them. It's all I've known, really. I couldn't imagine a life without words, or stories."

He opened the top tome to its middle, scrolled his finger across a page and winced.

"Ugh. Even _I_ can't improve on this nonsense, but you can't polish a turd, I suppose."

Still, for lack of anything else to do they _did_ read until it felt late enough to retire. Silvan suggested that he sleep on the floor, but Seladon, although blushing deeply, spoke against it, thinking he'd already had the most awful day without catching his chill in the night. They lay top-to-toe in the colossal bed, the mattress large enough that it was almost possible to pretend that Silvan wasn't there.

But as usual Seladon could barely sleep, thinking about her sister, mulling over what had happened to her. If she was _really_ safe.

It was only to break these thoughts that she whispered, "Are you awake?"

Almost at once Silvan quipped, "Only if you are."

Seladon smiled into the dark.

"I find it difficult to sleep here. It feels like- acceptance. But I know that I have to."

"Well, you can listen to me talk until I bore you to sleep, if you like," said Silvan. "But what to _say_? So many choices. I could tell you the highs and lows of life as an underrated theatrical talent. Or perhaps I could run you through the script of a play- I always memorize the entire thing, every part, _every_ stage direction. I'd play every character at once, if could. How about the 'Fall of Lady Burna'? It's the story of a woman whose tumultuous love affairs accidentally begin a war at sea..."

His lilting voice babbled for hours, just soft enough that although she was listening Seladon did eventually find herself drifting, comforted by the presence and kindness of a friend. She only stirred when the bed chamber door opened the following morning, filling the dark room with light from the corridor beyond.

"Time to rise, _Prince_ and All-Maudra," said the Chamberlain, his wicked little head turned on one side. "The Emperor has sent me in place to summon Prince Silvan for questioning. Have much to learn, yes? You will tell _all_."

Dragging herself groggily upright Seladon turned to look at Silvan, who grimly nodded back.

_I told you so._

"Why do you need to ask him anything?" snapped Seladon. "I thought those foul Garthim creatures were going to find our people? Or don't you trust your own soldiers?"

A snarl erupted from behind skekSil and the Garthim Master thrust himself into the doorway, the clink of his spurs striking the floor sending a shudder down the back of Seladon's neck.

"There is _no_ creature my army cannot find! But the Emperor wants every ounce of intelligence he can squeeze out of you worthless creatures, and he _will_ have it! Come _here_ , boy. The Chamberlain will take you to be interrogated."

"I won't tell you anything," said Silvan, his lip curled. "But I'll play along as long as my sister isn't hurt."

" _She_ will remain behind," said skekSil. "Emperor commands it. So shall be."

"Where _is_ skekSo?" asked Seladon. "I want to hear this from _his_ lips. How do I know you're not torturing my brother for your own entertainment?"

"Chamberlain is Emperor's mouthpiece. Must believe. And Emperor skekSo is indisposed. Weary from royal duties."

"I _know_ why he's tired," snapped Seladon. "I don't care. I don't want my brother to be alone with you. I don't trust you."

"You will halt your disrespectful prattle," growled skekUng, marching into the room. "I've warned you that I have no qualms punishing you. Don't forget it."

"I belong to skekSo; harm me and you'll answer to _him_."

skekUng jerked out an arm and smacked Seladon's head against a bedpost, making her shriek in shock and pain.

"The Emperor has granted me permission to discipline you. I can do what I wish with you as long as you're still pretty."

"Leave her alone!" cried Silvan.

The Garthim Master grabbed the boy's hair in his other fist and threw him towards skekSil.

"Take the boy to the Crystal and have the Scientist drain him until him talks."

" _No_! You can't, the pain could kill him!" Seladon shrieked.

Again skekUng struck her, this time hitting her across the cheek. 

"The Scientist is no fool. The Prince will live, and his secrets will be ours. Now you will be silent or I'll bloody that mouth of yours."

Trembling, Seladon watched skekSil lead Silvan away on his chain, crooning nastiness into his ear. She prayed that he'd find the strength to lie, as they'd planned, and wouldn't crumble as the agony of draining wracked his core.

" _Now_ , All-Maudra," said skekUng, when they were alone. "How do I teach you a lesson in submission? I usually tear Gelfling to shreds when they cross my path; I'm not used to keeping them in one piece."

He yanked the bedclothes from Seladon and roughly dragged her out onto the floor, stamping a hand as she flailed to strike him.

"All fours. I don't want to see your pathetic face."

"What? What?"

"I said _get on all fours_ , you stupid bitch. Not used to following orders, _are_ you, little queen?"

He pushed her down, handling her like livestock. A thick hand pulled up her dress, stuffed itself between her thighs, into her bruised cunt. Seladon shook her head wildly.

"I'm the _Emperor's_ , he won't let you-"

"I told you I have his blessing. Now shut up and take my girth. I want you crying and begging the Emperor's forgiveness."

"But I've-"

skekUng's cock filled her so harshly that Seladon howled, forgetting what she'd meant to say. Every stroke slammed her closer and closer to the floor, her feeble arms barely able to support her. The Garthim Master grabbed a handful of her hair and tugged hard enough she thought her scalp would tear. Another hand slapped her buttocks, his talons rending her each time his palm struck her flesh.

"You'll learn respect. You'll learn your place," skekUng grunted, his hot, heaving breath on the nape of her neck.

Seladon sputtered and cried, but she didn't beg. She didn't speak at all. Distantly she thought she could hear screaming, the voice of a boy trying desperately not to give himself away.

_Silvan. I'm so sorry, Silvan._

But in her darkest heart Seladon thought, _Thank Thra it isn't Brea._

*

In the Scientist's lab the great chair lay in wait, looking more like a Crawlie trap than a seat. skekTek slithered about its shadows in restless anticipation of the Vapra Gelfling the Emperor had sent to be interrogated. He thought it was ridiculous that any of the Skeksis believed that this idiot boy was a Prince; even if the late All-Maudra had covered up some affair there had likely been no offspring from that union, or if there had that child was absorbed into the Vapra royal line with no mention of their father's lineage.

All it would take to determine the truth in either direction was a simple blood test, but thus far the Emperor had refused to give skekTek consent to proceed.

Where was the _sense_ in it? None, _none_ at all, for they were all past that, now, the old days of logic and strategy blown away like dust on the wind into directionless excess. The Emperor had only sunk further than the rest of them, making himself vulnerable with his reckless decision to keep the boy before finding proof of royal blood. His mind was uncoiling slowly, so slowly that skekSo likely did not know it, and even skekTek could never prove. But they all saw that madness and indulged in it, enjoying it while it lasted.

skekTek rattled a set of vials half-despairingly to think of it. If skekUng was in power things would be _different_. Perhaps not _ideal_ \- he was least likely to let the Lords keep slaves for long unless they were kept in squalor like pigs, used roughly and thrown away again -but he was so militant-minded no Gelfling would be allowed into the castle walls without thorough vetting. The Scientist ached to think of that possible future, for he might not be treated so harshly, or thrown as few scraps as he was by the current Emperor.

By the Crystal, what he would _do_ if he was allowed his pick of the Gelfling. Tests on every tissue, organ, and matter throughout their foul bodies, fucking and defiling them in way his brothers would never comprehend with their simple thoughts. His breath tightened over thoughts of unbridled violence, hammering the skulls of his subjects until every anger he'd ever possessed in his life was purged through the shattering of bone.

"Scientist! Noble guest is here."

The Chamberlain's oozing whimper jolted skekTek from his musings. The Vapra- or _half-_ Vapra, according to his tall-tale -stood slightly behind skekSil, his arms loose at his sides, eyes rolled, trying to look unconcerned by the threat ahead of him regardless of the chain and collar at his neck. Yes, there _was_ something about his face that resembled the royals, but the Gelfling were reactively few in number compared to most species, and no doubt their genes crossed slightly at some point.

Perhaps the Scientist could scrape a little of the boy's blood off one of the needles plunged into his shoulders as he was drained. Test it in _secret_ , wait til the All-Maudra was at his mercy again, examine each until the boy's lies were laid bare and the Emperor stopped wasting his time over this rigmarole.

"Here, Gelfling," said skekTek. "Since you're a Prince, here's your new throne."

*

Seladon lay quivering, waiting for the Garthim Master to leave. He stood with his foot on her neck, pushing Seladon down each time she tried to rise.

"You'll _stay_ there until I'm sure that you've learned your lesson. What do you do in the presence of your Lords?"

"Bow, my Lord," she whispered.

"Good. And _how_ do you address us?"

"Politely. With your titles. And I will not answer back, my Lord."

She hated her own simpering cowardice, but knowing anything else would earn her another thrashing or rut quelled any desire to express contempt.

"I don't _trust_ you, and I don't _like_ you, so you'd do well to recall this beating," said skekUng. "There's a _lot_ worse I can do to you if you offend the Emperor again."

He ran one of his spurs down Seladon's spine, tearing her nightdress and a thin layer of skin beneath. The light, stinging tickle frightened her so badly that she began to cry all over again, softly, trying not to move in order to evade the edge of the spur.

Footsteps came along the castle corridor and the chamber door swung open. Three drained Podling slaves entered, carrying Silvan limply between them. He was ghastly pale, blood glistening at his mouth and caking his closed eyelashes. His chest moved erratically up and down, hitching with silent pain.

"The Prince was _talkative_ , hmmm," the Chamberlain said, sliding in behind the Podlings. "Very conversational, yes, in time. Surprising how much an enemy will tell in confidence with just small push."

"He told _you_ where the Gelfling intend to take refuge?" asked skekUng, removing his foot from Seladon's neck.

"The great city Cera-Na," said the Chamberlain. "Sifa plan to help other clans cross ocean. Find freedom in uncharted lands."

"Then we will apprehend them," said the Garthim Master. "Cut their sails before they're hung and mop Gelfling blood with them- I will instruct my remaining army."

He marched from the room, bristling with eager bloodthirst. Seladon did not immediately stand. She was half-afraid he'd come directly back to kick her down again, and besides, she was struggling too much in her pain to make any sudden motions.

" _Stand_ , All-Maudra," said skekSil. "If you will allow Chamberlain audience I have questions. Mere curiosity, but would mean much if All-Maudra entertained them."

He outstretched a scaly hand. Suppressing a shudder Seladon took it, clutching her torn nightdress around her. The space between her legs ached sharply, making it difficult to hold steady.

"You can speak to me here, in _this_ room," said Seladon. "I do not wish to leave my brother... my Lord."

Across the room Silvan was being lowered onto the bed, his head rolling weakly towards her. Even in this hopeless state he looked almost exactly like Brea, making Seladon's heart squeeze painfully in yearning.

"Then speak _quietly_ , hmm?" said skekSil, twisting Seladon towards the wall, out of Silvan's earshot. "If you and boy are lying best to confess sooner than later, hmm? Punishment if found out will be great. Chamberlain sensed All-Maudra's hesitance in throne room. All-Maudra lacked confidence. Raised suspicion, you understand."

"Of course I did," said Seladon, forcing her expression into indignant rage. "This place has- _changed_ me. What did you _expect_?"

"Hmm, true, but it is... something else. I think All-Maudra is hiding something from Emperor."

The clammy grip on Seladon's wrist tightened, and through the sickly politeness she heard a note of steely, probing warning.

"I have _no_ idea what you mean, my Lord," said Seladon. "I wouldn't risk my brothers safety with a betrayal that would end in him being hurt. Nor would _he_ , I'd hope. I don't know him well, this is true, but his heart is strong."

"But Seladon has lied, played games, proved unworthy of trust."

The Chamberlain drew Seladon close, his robes almost smothering her. The velvet smelled of perfume and stale food, the leavings of that day's feast crusting in the folds.

"There are better ways of dying than being beaten to death by my Lords," said Seladon, through gritted teeth. "I am no fool, Lord skekSil."

She yanked herself free of skekSil's hand, rubbing the place he had touched her as if a stain had been left behind.

"Very well," said the Chamberlain, his eyes squinted small. "I must believe, for now."

He left the room slowly, the Podlings shuffling at his heels, watching her even as the door winched shut. After the key had turned in the lock Seladon approached the bed, unsure of what to do or say. If it had really been Brea lying there rather than the boy Seladon would have run to her and held her in her arms. Instead she only peered at him, blinking nervously.

"Are... are you alright?" asked Seladon.

Slowly Silvan cracked an eye open and stared at her through a film of blood. Flustered, Seladon said, "I'm sorry, that was a stupid question. Of course not. I'm sorry. I-"

"It's okay," Silvan whispered. "I just feel like I've been trampled by a herd of Landstriders in both directions, that's all."

He coughed, and a fine spray of blood misted the air. Seladon rushed towards him, torn gown flapping uselessly around her, and gripped his hand as he'd held hers the day before.

"I am so, so sorry. I've failed you as All-Maudra. Again, I've failed us all."

"I'm not having this conversation again," Silvan groaned. "I wanted to do this. I did it. So please, stop self-flagellating; it's making my head hurt."

He shut his eye again and was quiet for a while, shaking from time to time. Then he said, "Get me some water, would you? My throat feels like the Crystal Desert."

Seladon filled a tin cup at the room's tiny basin and brought it back, holding it to Silvan's lips as he drank.

"At least the Chamberlain lapped up my Sifa fairytale, eh?" he said, one he'd swallowed half the cup. "And the Garthim Master- charged off like a fool, practically salivating with excitement."

"Be wary of skekSil," said Seladon. "He sensed something's not right. He'll be watching you for any mistake. I know we'll be discovered sooner or later, but... I'd rather it be later."

"I know, I know. Hush, worrier, for just a minute or two. What happened to you while I was gone, anyway?"

Wincing, Seladon tried to shrug more of her dress over her body. She felt even more exposed by the question, as well-meaning as it was.

"Ah," said Silvan. "I see. You don't have to talk about it. But... well, I don't have much energy to talk, today. Your turn. Tell me all about palace life; I'm wildly curious about it all. But first-"

He edged backwards across the bed, sucking in short breaths with effort, and patted the mattress beside him.

"Come on up. You're shaking. At least it's warm here."

Awkwardly Seladon did so, clambering under the coverlet so that it shielded her nakedness. She turned on her side, her back to Silvan. His warmth was so close to her that she wondered how it would feel to have his body moulded against hers.

Seladon talked, recalling her life as it had been full of pressures and luxuries alike, the tangle of her emotions making her pause from time to time, keen to Silvan listening. She stumbled over her minor sufferings- her mother's casual, perhaps unintended bullying, the strict rules and conduct that kept her at a length from true warmth and friendship -because now they seemed fickle and foolish, particularly to a boy who'd spent his life toiling to entertain others and living one day to the next.

To her surprise Silvan touched a clammy hand to her shoulder, just brushing her left wing, and said, "It all sounds a bit lonely, this royal life."

Seladon nodded, and choked out a laugh.

"It's strange because now... now, when everything should feel the worst, at least..."

Without speaking Silvan pulled her back against him, and through his dress and the covers she felt his ribs, the tautness of his lean muscles, and for a moment she panicked, struggled with it, but with _herself_ , most of all.

Then she let it all go, allowing herself to be held. To feel something other than fear or shame.

*

In the night a Podling came forth and tugged Seldon awake, its wispy, shrivelled hands chilling her so deeply that at first she thought it was a bad dream. Then her eyes adjusted to the gloom and she recognised the features of one of the drained slaves that stumbled about the castle. Given that they didn't speak she wasn't sure at first what it wanted. Then when it kept tugging she slipped out of bed, leaving Silvan slumbering behind.

She guessed before it led her to the door where he was taking her. Wrapped her tattered dress around her Seladon entered the Emperor's chamber, her teeth chattering with anxiety.

"My Lord Emperor," she said, forcing herself to nod as the Skeksis rose to greet her. "I thought you were unwell."

"I was," he said. "Until the Scientist brought vials of Essence to revive me. There's a sudden _wealth_ of choice, but it was yours and your brother's I desired. _Quite_ the lovely mix."

He certainly looked better than when Seladon had last seen him, his posture straightened, formidable, his eyes clear as glass. There was something dangerous in air between them, making Seladon shrink automatically towards the nearest wall.

"A shame that I couldn't witness your punishment _myself_ ," skekSo commented. "You understand why you were punished, I assume?"

"Yes, my Lord, Lord skekUng made that very clear. But..."

"But? But _what_?"

He leered over her, his vastness swallowing her in shadow. Seladon closed her eyes, not wanting to see the seething evil passing across his face.

"Perhaps if you _still_ object then you haven't taken to your education as well as I'd hoped."

"I _have_ , Sire," Seladon said, eyes still shut. "It's just that I thought you'd already punished me when you-"

"Can't you finish a _sentence_ , All-Maudra, after all those pretty, eloquent speeches you used to make? Out with it, Seladon. What did I do?"

Whimpering, Seladon slid down the wall into the floor. She thought the words would clog her throat like something she'd been forced to swallow, but somehow she spat them out.

"You raped me. You made my brother-."

"Oh yes. I did, didn't I?"

The Emperor snatched a hank of Seladon's hair and dragged her back up the wall. Her eyes flicked open again, and found herself staring down skekSo's beak, its tip cutting her cheek.

"I watched you gasp and squirm into his mouth. Confess, girl, did you climax?"

His breath was a putrid symphony of Essence and disease. Seladon shook her head.

"But you _enjoyed_ it, did you not?"

"No. No, no, I..."

"Another lie. You cannot help yourself, it seems."

He turned, flinging the Seladon across the room with such force that she struck the opposite wall and landed in a crumpled heap. Almost before she'd caught her breath the Emperor had her in his arms again, carrying her like a doll to the bed.

"You haven't been washed or dressed the way I like you," said skekSo, splaying her out on the covers. "But as soon as the Essence took hold within me I _had_ to have you under me, my pretty little treasure. You, and _not_ your brother; I want to take my time with him, whereas you- oh, _you_ I've had over and over. What does it matter when I take _your_ flesh?"

He ran his beak down her body, nipping her flesh until Seladon cried out again and again in pain.

"I haven't decided how I should break in your brother," he continued, licking beads of blood from his metal beak. "Or deflower your sister, when she is indeed captured. But she will _suffer_ , as you have, for daring to resist her Lords, to deny us. I will never be denied anything again."

He thrust inside Seladon, his tail snaking underneath to fill her other hole. The raw pain she was used to, the sudden, invading digit she was _not_. She tried not to make any noise, but the Emperor kept snarling such ugly threats that she couldn't help moaning in horror.

"One day, Seladon, you may be the last Gelfling on Thra who is not a drained, salivating shell. You may be the last to think a thought another has not put into your head, the last to hate rather than mindlessly obey me. You should be delighted I've let you keep your brother's mind intact to keep you company. I've heard you talk all hours together; I wonder how you find so much to say."

He gripped Seladon by the jaw and shook her head from time to time, still pushing himself deep within her. She tried to ignore his taunting, but he seemed to know all her niggling fears and uncertainties as they came to her.

"Is it the Silver Sea you speak of, you and your brother? Imagining the salt on your lips, the waves bearing you away to freedom- or your people, at least? None of them will so much as set foot on the coast, let alone the ocean. And you- if you ever see it with your own eyes it will be at my side on the end of a chain, watching me conquer other lands and drain their creatures, one by one."

His voice was like a curse, entrenching dread deeper and deeper within her. Seladon found herself twitching with fear, for although she knew her people were protected by Silvan's lies for now the moment this was discovered would be one of agony for her.

For Silvan, most of all.


	8. Small Sanctuary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seladon struggles to protect her friend

In the silence after skekSo finished inside her Seladon wondered how many queens across a thousand trine had been in her position, reduced from a monarch to a whore. It was a thought she'd had in her first few days of imprisonment, and here it was again, brought around in a dark, toxic circle.

As a girl Seladon had fancied herself wedded to some shining Vapran beauty, dreaming of nothing beyond the chaste, courtly romance of poetry. Now she'd become the figure of one of the Skeksis' graphic, illustrated history books; her blood might as well be staining the pages.

"Thoughtful tonight, aren't you, All-Maudra?" said the Emperor, turning her face up towards his.

He was sat in bed against his many pillows, holding Seladon in his lap like a pet. She loathed the way he stroked her posessively, each touch rougher than the last, clearly gloating inwardly at his good fortune.

"I suppose I am, Sire," said Seladon. "It's all there is to do."

"Oh, I could suggest a _far_ better use of your time," said the Emperor, coolly, and twisting Seladon's ever-present chain in his fist he pulled her up against him, her small breasts rubbing against the cold, layered jewels.

"No thank you," said Seladon, faintly.

skekSo laughed.

"Those are the manners I remember. So practised, so _precise_. Sometimes I imagine how it would be if I'd remained a pretender, playing the benevolent God to your kind. I picture how willingly you and your little siblings would swallow me, thanking me for the privilege."

He parted Seladon's lips with a talon, running the pad of his finger along her teeth.

"Now I only think how dearly you wish to bite me, if you dared."

Leaning down the side of the bed the Emperor retrieved two small glass vials. Seeing them made a little ball of sickness churn in Seladon's stomach.

"Please, not that. _Anything_ but that again."

"How sweetly you beg," said skekSo, smirking with his cruel metal beak. "But you'll be relieved to know the one I intend to give you is not _your_ Essence, but your _brother's_."

He laid one vial on the bed covers, rolling the other- Silvan's -in his hand.

"skekTek believes it will be less corrosive in its effects than your own- don't ask me the reason; I care not what jargon he utters. And as _wasteful_ as it is to use Essence upon you I'm in a generous mood."

Pushing his garments aside the Emperor released his engorged phalluses, each rubbing against Seladon insistently. She repressed a shudder, aware of skekSo's fierce gaze upon her. With rapt anxiety she watched the Emperor pour a few drops of Essence onto the head of one of his cocks and let it run down the shaft like violet-silver tree sap.

"You know what I like, my pretty queen," skekSo purred. "Need I even ask?"

Seladon tried to open her throat, which had seized tight shut with terror, but even as she bent down to take the head of the Emperor's cock into her mouth she felt the muscles spasm ever-tighter still.

"Do not make me repeat myself," said the Emperor, his voice thick with ecstasy. "I want to fill that soft mouth, use you like the Gelfling scum you are. Don't keep me waiting."

Even wrapping a hand around the Essence-sluiced appendage made Seladon jolt with fear and revulsion, the liquid triggering a sensation of warmth across her skin. Crying out she let go, the idea that this stuff had been forced from her friend drop by drop rolling guiltily around her mind.

"Imbecile," hissed the Emperor.

He clamped a hand over Seladon's nose, smothering her until her mouth dropped open to drag in a lungful of breath. At once skekSo forced his cock down Seladon's throat, using a knotted mass of hair to ram her head upon its length over and over again. She clutched at the Emperor's robes, desperate for something to prevent her light form from being shaken so violently in all directions. skekSo only pressed her down harder onto him, warm drool slipping into her hair from his open mouth.

"How does it _feel_ , Seladon, sucking your brother's Essence from my cock? Does your pulse _race_? Is your tight little cunt wet?"

skekSo seized aggressively at Seladon's breasts and between her legs as he addressed her, still dragging her head up and down his dripping organ. Gagging hopelessly Seladon concentrated on not suffocating, not vomiting, but at the same time the things the Emperor said were true. She _was_ wet; she could feel it coating skekSo's talons as he forced them inside her.

 _This_ Essence was intoxicating in a way her own had not been, tasting of delicious things like butter and mead and maleness, somehow, the way Silvan had smelled as he pressed against her. Only now it filled her mouth and throat, making a shiver of pleasure wrench through her. Her nipples hardened and her skin erupted in goosebumps, yet at the same time every thought screamed in protest at the assault. The Emperor seemed to comprehend her conflict for he pulled his cock from her throat and turned her onto her front, thrusting his spittle-soaked member into her unprepared arse.

"Sickening how you hanker for your brother, but can't bear me inside you," he snarled as Seladon screamed into the mattress. "You might save your sneering judgement for yourself and your predilections."

The agony of his vastness within her mingling with the unwanted, confounding pleasure made Seladon tear at the coverlets with her teeth, desperate to silence her own pathetic cries.

"What did you _feel_?" growled the Emperor. "To hear that your mother spread her legs for some sailor and whelped a son? You thought her so _noble_ , so _pure_ , so _devout_. She was a traitoress before you were even born, and fought to conceal it."

He raked his talons down Seladon's back then, on a whim, grasped a fistful of her filmy wings, scything electric pain into the base of Seladon's spine.

"You see, the Scroll Keeper found some Gelfling records," purred skekSo. "Primitive things, but still damning. Your mother _did_ mate below her station- _married_ , in fact, a pirate named Kam'lu. I am surprised that you do not remember him, All-Maudra. Perhaps you were compelled to forget."

The pain within Seladon's core rendered her incapable of responding to this revelation, but a small, buried part of her screamed, _what? What is he trying to say?_

Her hands fluttered hopelessly at her sides, then-

Cold glass touched the fingers of her left hand, shining, slippery.

The other bottle of Essence.

Her _own_ Essence.

Any thoughts or cares as to skekSo's words quickly vanished as Seladon closed her fist over the tiny bottle. She focusing on the icy coldness of it as skekSo roared against her neck, filling her with his warm seed. He lay on top of her for a moment, breathing hard, then released her, falling back into the pillows.

"There," he said, hoarsely. "I've exhausted my use of you for the night. You may return to your room unchaperoned; the Podling guarding your door will allow you in."

"My dress..."

"It's dark, and besides, what creature in this castle hasn't seen you unclothed? Forget what little dignity you have. Now, begone."

Seladon didn't have to be told twice. She slipped down from the bed and ran swaying and stumbling with pain and the exhilarating of the Essence, the vial squeezed tight in her fist.

The cold, dark corridor beyond the Emperor's chamber was a welcome change from the stuffy heat of skekSo's bedchamber, but Seladon walked quickly, shutting herself into her own room as if a dozen eyes were on her. She wouldn't put it past the Skeksis to have some kind of spies lurking in the corridors, though she couldn't fathom what creature they might be.

As she ran Seladon thought: _is it true, what the Emperor said, about my my mother? The pirate? Or are these_ more _lies, meant to drive me mad with doubt?_

_Until I know I have to think of it that way. I can't believe a word those monsters say._

Once in her own room with the door shut behind her Seladon looked at the tiny vial in her palm, both appalled by and triumphant in her gall. It felt as if she'd claimed a little of her resolve back as well as part of her physical self, but she couldn't keep it for long. Unlike the Milk-poppy the vial would immediately be missed, and Seladon knew that if she didn't dispose of it quickly she would be found out and punished harshly.

Seladon had already decided what she must do. Silvan, still sleeping, sounded rasping and sickly, his snoring breath catching painfully from time to time. The boy needed his health, his strength, to continue his charade, to lead the Skeksis astray with lies. Besides, he was the first Gelfling contact Seladon had experienced since the Garthim had captured her, and the thought of having this small comfort torn from her was a desolate one.

Therefore, Seladon reasoned, Silvan _must_ drink her Essence to be restored.

But he would never take it of his own volition; such a thing would be akin to asking him to eat her flesh or organs. As foul and unfair as it was she would have to give it to him _another_ way, one he wouldn't suspect.

The tin cup of water was still on the bedside table. Carefully Seladon tipped the Essence into it, shaking the cup until she felt that it was diluted enough. The empty vial she hid in the chamber pot, pulling the lid shut over it. She was sure that the Podlings would throw it out without looking at the contents, destroying any hint of evidence that she had taken it. skekSo would simply believe that he'd misplaced the bottle, or finished it in a drunken frenzy.

Or so Seladon hoped, crossing her fingers tightly.

As she climbed into bed beside Silvan she felt him jerk awake, his breath a mucus-ridden rattle.

"Where've you been?" he mumbled, squinting at her through the dark.

He sounded worse than when she'd left him; sleep hadn't done him much good.

"skekSo asked for me."

"That old monster."

"Forget it," said Seladon, quickly. "You sound sick. Finish your water; it will make you feel better."

She passed Silvan the tin cup and watched him sip it slowly. He paused, smacking his lips together.

"Is something different about it? Tastes... I don't know. Not _watery_ , anyway."

"I brought it back from the Emperor's chamber," Seladon lied, swiftly. "He gets better water than we do, of course."

"Hmm. Well it goes down easier than the other stuff, at least."

Bit by bit Silvan drained the cup, his voice strengthening even between mouthfuls. By the time he'd reached the bottom he was sitting up in bed, wide awake, like a child too excited to sleep on the night before a festival.

"All-Maudra, you're my saviour. I didn't want to say it before, but I felt like I might not be able to get up tomorrow and now- well, now I could _dance_."

Relief, so sweet that Seladon could taste it. And guilt, better as almonds, lying beneath.

"Plenty of time for dancing when we get away from this place, one day," she said.

*

The morning broke with the sound of rage, tearing Seladon from sleep so abruptly that she almost fell out of bed. Even before her dream-fogged mind unjumbled the words she knew exactly what was about to occur.

"All-Maudra!" the Emperor bellowed, slamming into the room amidst dark, swirling robes. "Where is my Essence? Give it to me!"

Seladon sat up hastily, and beside her Silvan groaned with tiredness.

"I don't have any Essence," said Seladon. "What would I do with it? I despise it. It must be in your chamber somewhere, Emperor."

"Do not be impudent," skekSo snarled, his face wrought with desperate anger. "Do you not think I scoured every inch of it in search of the vial? Your brother's was there, but _yours_ is missing. There is no other place it could be but in your keep. Stand up, both of you. You will search every corner of this room until I have found it."

"You're wrong," Silvan said, coolly. "I was awake when Seladon came back last night, and she didn't have anything with her. How _could_ she? Where would she hide it? She doesn't even have _clothes_. Unless they're some magical invisible garment I've never heard of before."

"Hold your tongue, Prince," said skekSo. "I know full well that you would lie to save her idiotic hide. You will obey me or I will give the both of you to the Garthim Master and have him defile you until you scream for death. Do not test my patience."

Trembling, Seladon turned and pulled the coverlets from the bed, gesturing for Silvan to help her. She caught his eye a moment, seeing a dawning cloud of repulsion there. Then it was gone, closed away with his other private emotions. They stripped the bed completely, turning the mattress onto the floor and running their hands over it to demonstrate that there were no hidden slits for a vial to be concealed within.

"Under the bed frame," said skekSo, his voice still grim and cold. "Go on. Prove to me it is not secreted in some hidden nook."

"You can see for _yourself_ in the mirrors all around this room," said Silvan, sharply. "There's nothing there. Or don't your eyes work?"

"I am surprised that you dare speak back to me after your draining yesterday," snapped the Emperor. "Or, indeed, have the strength. Come here, boy. Silence that mouth of yours."

The Skeksis caught Silvan by the collar of his dress and forced his head level with the crotch of his robes. Seladon stood, dithering, knowing it wasn't safe to intervene.

"Obey me, All-Maudra," the Emperor snarled. "Or do you miss _skekUng's_ handling so dearly?"

Reluctantly Seladon got down to her hands and knees and made a great show of fumbling beneath the bed frame, coating herself in dust and grime. Behind her she heard thick gasping and choking, the soft hisses of the Emperor taking his pleasure in Silvan's throat. She prayed that was all that he would want, that he wouldn't go further. They still hadn't planned what exactly to do when Silvan was found out, and the near-certainty of the boy's death made her faint with nausea.

"There," said Seladon. "That is all, Emperor. Unless you want me to empty the chamberpot, also?"

She made as if to open the lid.

"Do not," said skekSo, breathlessly, grinding himself into Silvan's mouth with hateful vigour. "You will spoil my appetite. Come here, and join your brother. There is enough of me for you both to swallow."

Grimacing, Seladon crouched beside Silvan and parted her lips, accepting the Emperor's cock with the same trepidation as the night before. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Silvan struggling with the Emperor's thickness, his small mouth stretched to its limit. Drool and pre-come oozed from the corners, and his hair whipped Seladon's shoulder as skekSo held his head down.

It was all so wearingly predictable, these rages and abuses. Seladon barely had the energy to hate the Emperor as he sneered down at them both, admiring their stained faces. Barely, but still she did, a dark, faraway hatred twisted with terror and grief.

Suddenly skekSo shoved Seladon away and swivelled Silvan around, pushing him flat against one of the many mirrored walls. He tore at his nightshirt, running a talon over the soft, pale expanse of Silvan's right buttock.

"Don't hurt him, Emperor," Seladon cried. "I didn't take the Essence, I swear it, you saw-"

"What I _saw_ is that you've been clever enough to hide it somewhere one might never find it, or disposed of it, somehow," said the Emperor. "You take me for some mad fool, but you underestimate me, Gelfling. Thus, as I warned you, _Silvan_ will take the brunt of your punishment. He should be _glad_ to save his precious sister from me."

The boy, who had been panting through gritted teeth, let out a sharp yelp as the Emperor forced a talon inside him. His breath fogged the mirrored wall, and as it dissipated Seladon saw fear clash with the determination in his eyes.

"Do what you want," said Silvan. "See if I care. I've seen worse things than this in the streets of Ha'rar."

"I doubt that," hissed skekSo, and loosened the front of his stinking robes

"Emperor," Seladon began again, but the Lord turned his head to bark at her.

" _Hush_. You will sit and watch without speaking. The more noise you make the harsher I will be."

The disgusting creature pressed close to Silvan's back, forcing the head of his cock against his arse, pushing even as Silvan struggled and snarled, still somehow fiercely maintaining his dignity. As skekSo thrust inside him the force smacked of it smacked Silvan's head upon the mirror, so hard that Seladon was shocked that it didn't crack. She crammed her hand into her mouth and bit it, not wanting her cries to elicit further punishment.

"Tight, aren't you?" the Emperor mocked, his hooded eyes half-closed. "Tighter than I would have suspected for a slum rat, yet not so much as your sister. Who has used you before me, hmm? Did you sell yourself in filth-ridden alleys before you knew that you were a Prince?"

"Shut up," Silvan snapped. "Shut up, damn it, shut _up_."

His voice wavered, threatened to crack. Seladon watched him in silent agony, praying that he would hold strong. Her eyes fixed upon the Emperor's hands, one braced at Silvan's hip, another against the wall, talons squealing on the glass with every cruel, pistoning motion.

"Gelfling whore," skekSo growled. "I'll teach you to beg for me to use you. Make you disciplined, thanking me for every stroke."

"Never!" Silvan hissed, and with that the Emperor groaned, digging his talons so deeply into Silvan's hip that blood dashed upon the floor. He rocked against him, clutching him as he spasmed. Silvan's face was knotted in disgust, and at last Seladon looked away.

"There," said the Emperor, shoving Silvan away like a pile of old washing. "Not much of a royal now, are you? Regardless I will send Podling slaves to have you both washed and dressed. I tire of looking upon filth. I want you silvery and beautiful again, or else I might as well be keeping crawlies as concubines."

He straightened, wiping the black mucus oozing from his beak cover, and glanced from the prostrate Silvan to Seladon, who didn't dare look back for fear he'd take another violent affront to her expression.

"If I do not find that vial within a week you can expect to be punished _severely_ , Seladon," said skekSo. "Do you understand me? You think that you have suffered, but the lengths I am willing to go are twicefold any _you_ can imagine."

With a cold laugh he left them alone again. Neither Silvan nor Seladon immediately spoke, only sat, shivering, contemplating their own thoughts. Then Seladon said, "Silvan, I just wanted to..."

"Don't," said Silvan, slowly dragging himself up onto his knees.

His face was a mess of tears, saliva and blood from were a tooth had cut his lip when his face struck the mirror.

"I _know_ you gave me the Essence. I knew that story about the water was all guff. At any other time, in any other place, I might have been angry. But let's face it, All-Maudra: I've swallowed worse things this morning."

It wasn't funny, nothing about this situation was, but as Silvan glanced up and quirked his lip Seladon burst into peals of shuddering laughter. Silvan quickly joined her, although she knew he must be in a great deal of pain.

It was only later when the Podlings took them to the bath house room that Seladon thought again of what the Emperor had said about her mother and the Sifa, skekSo's sly certainty that he had indeed snared a Prince. The other implications of it all.

"Silvan," said Seladon, as the boy sat on the rim of the nearest tub. "You said the cover story about my mother was a- a fairytale. Are you _sure_ that's all it is? How did you think of it?"

At first the boy didn't reply. He was sat on the edge of one of the baths, shoulders up to his ears, shaking like a gillybloom in an afternoon breeze.

"Silvan-"

"You're asking about that _now_?" asked the boy, not even bothering to turn his head.

His voice was strange, and Seladon realised that he was struggling to suppress tears. Her hand flew to her mouth, and Seladon wished that she could take back the words.

"I-"

"It's fine," said Silvan, and released a bitter chuckle. "I'm here to save you and all of Gelfling kind, and so on and so forth. I'm not the important one. Don't worry about me."

His left leg jiggled on the floor distractedly, and Seladon felt herself at a loss. She had bonded with and comforted many of her friends and subjects who had lost loved ones to the Skeksis, but never any who'd suffered what _she_ had, not that she knew of, anyway. There seemed to adequate words to console his pain, the embarrassment of it.

"I'm sorry," she said. " _I_ would have never asked you to come here. It was irresponsible that any of the Maudras allowed it. Even if they didn't know what skekSo-"

"Just leave it, All-Maudra."

The boy sounded so tired that Seladon felt his exhaustion in her own bones.

"Anyway, the story about your mother," said Silvan. "If you're _that_ desperate to know. It's ancient gossip. A lot of older people seem to remember your mother having some dalliance with a Sifa. Then- well, suddenly he was gone, and no one spoke of him any more. Thra knows what really happened. But anyway, true or not it was a convenient little ruse."

He didn't remove his clothes as he got into the bath. For a moment Seladon wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the image, but then Silvan turned his head to look at her and the sound stopped in Seladon's throat. She took a step back, a gasp of breath hissing through her nose. As if nothing was wrong Silvan continued the conversation, his hair spilling across his face, shielding his eyes.

"What's the _matter_ , Seladon? Stuck up about the idea that it's _you_ who has a little Sifa blood? A seventh of your subjects are the sea-faring folk; What would it matter _now_ , after everything?"

This was true. Seladon let out a soft, shaking laugh and said, "I know. It's only- if he _is_ my father then my mother never told me. She kept many secrets, but _that_ \- it hurts. I don't even _remember_ him. I always thought my father was a Vapra noble who died in some accident and I simply never met him. I don't know _where_ he is, this Sifa, if he's even alive. And if he _is_ my father it means there's so much about myself I didn't know."

She passed a hand across her eyes, rubbing them until her vision broke into little white stars.

"But... you're right. None of it matters. The only thing that _does_ is getting away from here."

Silvan didn't reply, only sat under the running water, his tight form shuddering gently. Still Seladon had no idea how to reach him, or if he even wanted to be reached. She only felt that she'd let him down completely, although they had both known that this moment would come.


	9. The Devil's Bargain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seladon's clumsiness leads to discord

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late! I did a lot of reworking in this chapter so that some of the plot and emotional turns made more sense 💞

It was only when the Gelfling captives were in their dressing room, standing around in bathrobes, that Silvan said, offhandedly, "All-Maudra, you didn't take that vial out of chamber pot, did you?"

The question threw Seladon somewhat. She shook her head.

"I- I thought it would best if the Podlings took it away. I thought the Emperor would just let us be if he couldn't find it, stupid, I know, but..."

She considered the hanging threat of punishment in a week's time, violence to a level she'd yet to endure, and felt faint.

"I just didn't think it _through_ properly," said Seladon. "I was overwhelmed. But if we're in luck the Podlings might not have serviced the room yet. I have an idea."

She darted to the dressing room door and knocked upon it. The Podlings guarding it opened up and stared at Seladon with obvious apprehension. On the left was Uldre, avoiding direct eye contact. Seladon felt a deep pang of guilt and regret; she didn't want to implicate the Podling in yet another mess, knowing that it was unlikely the Emperor would forgive her a second time.

"I've misplaced a piece of jewellery in my bed chamber," Seladon said. "I am afraid that if it isn't found the Lords will think I've lost it, or tried to damage it out of spite. They will be angry. _Please_ , will one of you see if the room has been cleaned yet? It- it might get tidied away by accident."

Uldre gave Seladon a long, nervous look, clearly trusting her as little as the Emperor did. Then she nodded and darted off down the corridor, leaving her companion to watch the door alone. Rubbing her hands together anxiously Seladon returned to the dressing room. Silvan was beginning to dab streaks of cream makeup around his cheekbones with concentrated precision. He caught her eye in the mirror and cracked a smile.

"I wouldn't look so vexed," said Silvan. "It's lose-lose, this vial business."

"What do you mean?" asked Seladon.

"Well, it's obvious. If the bottle miraculously turns up somewhere- and _empty_ , to add salt to the wound -it will be _your_ fault, regardless of whether or not skekSo _truly_ believes it. "

Silvan tapped a powder brush on the dressing table and dusted it under his eyes.

"And if the damned thing doesn't materialise, well- you'll just be a clever little sneak-thief, won't you? Any excuse to hurt you, really. It just would have been nice to make the disgusting overgrown bird doubt himself, that's all."

"I suppose you're right," said Seladon, unhappily.

She sat down to comb her hair, watching Silvan dress from the corner of her eye. The last time they'd gotten ready together Seladon had been too shy to look in his direction. _Now_ she couldn't help but be fascinated by his fine, delicate features, how unlike Brea he appeared now that Seladon had gotten used to his looks.

Completely naked the boy examined his reflection, and Seladon, pretending to be engrossed in her own routine, saw all that skekSo had not. The lean chest, the hard curve of his stomach, and his cock, which Seladon hadn't let her eyes fall on until now. It was the first belonging to a Gelfling she'd ever seen, pale and smooth in comparison to the hideous appendages of the Skeksis.

"Can't blame you for looking," said Silvan, tossing Seladon a wink in the mirror. "It must be said I am a handsome one."

"I apologise," Seladon gabbled, her cheeks flaring with heat. "I just..."

She inwardly cursed her own restless eyes.

"I just wondered how you would have- become Brea. To infiltrate the castle, I mean. You said you used to play all kinds of people on stage. I've always wanted to know how it's possible to turn into so many different characters and still come out exactly the same at the end of it all. Still _yourself_ "

Silvan arched a brow, smirking.

"Playing another person is easy enough if you have the knack for it, and I have talent. It's like climbing into their skin for a few hours, speaking with their tongue. You're _borrowing_ them rather than _becoming_ them. But I suppose you mean the physical matter of it."

"Well, both, but-"

"There are several age old techniques," said Silvan, waving a powder brush. "I can't take the credit for their invention, but I certainly have finessed them. Cosmetics. Costume. Padding. Adornments here and there. It doesn't matter who you become, from any walk of life- it's about stepping into _their_ world, the art of it. In stage circles they call it 'drag'."

"I see," said Seladon, thinking of the day she'd crowned herself, dressing in the foul opulence of the Skeksis. "I _think_ I understand. One day you'll have to transform me. Maybe _I_ could be the Prince instead."

"Oh, that'd be boring," said Silvan. "You wouldn't want that life, I can tell you."

The tight tone of his voice made Seladon feel quite awkward, hinting at the terrible thing that had happened in the mirrored room.

"How are we _surviving_ this madness?" Seladon asked, softly. "How are we sitting here, dressing for a monster, as if it's _nothing_ , as if it's _normal_?"

"You ask a lot of questions you know the answer to, All-Maudra."

"I know. I am just- so _tired_."

They finished readying themselves in silence, Silvan's usually upbeat energy dulled into something strange and pensive. The door creaked abruptly open and Uldre appeared in the frame, her wrinkled face drawn.

"All-Maudra. Uldre try find jewel for you, but... _pre opasno_. Chamberlain was there. Said want speak."

"What?" said Seladon, feeling suddenly ice cold. "skekSil is in our chamber?"

"I don't trust him," said Silvan. "Well, I don't trust _any_ of them, but he's different. _Much_ more dangerous. Like the Hunter amongst a shoal of Nebrie."

"Then we will not rise to him. Give him nothing. He is just trying to torment us for his own gain. We _cannot_ let him."

They walked together to the hated bed chamber, escorted all the way by a visibly panicking Uldre. It touched Seladon how invested the poor creature was in her welfare when the girl should have been most concerned with her own. So much like the friends that were now so far away from Seladon, her sister, fleeing deep into the mountains. Like _Silvan_ , who had suffered through Seladon's impulsiveness and did not blame her, or had chosen not to, for the time being.

The Chamberlain stood in the centre of the room, the upturned chamber pot lying on the floor at his feet. In his hand he held the empty vial, gleaming like the fang of some awful beast.

"Chamberlain is not afraid to get hands dirty to overturn truth," skekSil crooned, smirking. "And truth is _found_. I suspected Gelfling would play games with Emperor and seems was right. _Correct_! For _shame_. And emptying the vial... little thieves enjoyed their spoils, yes?"

"What does it _matter_ , skekSil?" snapped Seladon, trying to squash her terror. "I took back what was stolen from me. If I must suffer for that then so be it."

"Trust Chamberlain, All-Maudra would do well to avoid punishment that awaits," said skekSil. "Emperor believes Gelfling need training. skekZok is well known for teaching and performing rituals; he will teach harshly, and _thorough_ , yes, thorough _indeed_. Has made Gelfling kneel on glass while repeating sacred rites, stripped naked and whipped skin from backs- you are lucky I am thoughtful enough to warn of such agonies."

The words alone were enough to make Seladon bite at her now-scarred inner cheek to stop herself from swooning.

"Seladon stole the Essence to heal me," said Silvan. "I'll take any punishment twice over to save her pain."

"You will _not_ ," Seladon said, hoarsely. "It is _my_ responsibility. I will not let them harm you, no matter what skekSo says about you being branded with my sins."

"There need _not_ be harm," said skekSil, silkily. "I am willing to help All-Maudra, if open to bargain..."

"No, my Lord," said Seladon, coldly. "We are not. Your deception and trickery will _not_ make us your victims again."

"My _deception_?" cried the Chamberlain, in mock hurt. "Harsh words from child-queen who tricked foolish Podling into aiding failed suicide, who turns Skeksis on each other, who steals from under Emperor's beak. Such _accusation_ , and yet have not heard my suggestion."

skekSil raised a hand as both Seladon and Silvan began to speak at once.

"Set differences aside, please. _Please_. Save outrage for another time. I desire to be close to Emperor, gain stronger trust, _confidence_. This Gelflings can provide. Suggest to Lord Emperor to exchange more information for privileges- greater freedom in castle, more books, whatever All-Maudra likes. But say you must speak _only_ to skekSil. All-Maudra and Prince trust _me_ over others. Value Chamberlain's intelligence. Skeksis will see how information _pours_ from Gelfling, all thanks to _me_ "

"And why would we do that?" asked Silvan, arms folded. "Willingly betray our own people to save ourselves, I mean."

"Why not? Secrets _have_ been spilled," said the Chamberlain. "Screamed out in draining chair- this way _no more_ draining needed, no more _pain_."

"It seems like a lot of trouble for us to go through for an empty bottle," Silvan sniffed.

"Oh, vial will not be empty," said skekSil, running a talon over the head of the glass trinket. "Chamberlain will fill with Essence, slip into Emperor's room in his absence, then wait for it to be found. He will think it was misplaced- easily done, yes, in throes of pleasure."

He cast a sly look at a reddening Seladon.

"He will still _punish_ All-Maudra- that is his way. But nothing so terrible as skekZok's madness, hmm? What _say_ you, Seladon?"

The way he hissed the sibalant of her name made Seladon cringe.

"How can we know that you will carry out this plot in good faith?" she asked.

"Oh, I expect nothing til task is done. Til you hear from Emperor's own mouth vial is discovered."

How convincing the Skeksis sounded, leaning forward with his wicked eyes widened. But Seladon knew better than to believe a single syllable that oozed from his foul throat; every one was slippery and twisted up in his own insidious motives.

"I don't trust you," said Seladon. "I would rather make a deal with a Darkening-infested Rakkida than _you_ , skekSil."

At this the Chamberlain dropped his pretended kindliness with a suddenness that was immediate and frightening. He rounded on Silvan, grasping him by the front of his shirt, and dragged him close.

"If Gelfling won't accept friendly offer then what can Chamberlain do but take Prince Silvan for more questioning? Find out what secrets _still_ hidden."

skekSil took Silvan's face in his hand and squeezed, smearing the pristine makeup across his jaw, revealing the bruises beneath. Silvan fought against him, but even the boy's wiry strength was nothing compared to a Skeksis.

" _Enough_ ," snapped Seladon. "I accept your offer. You may unhand my brother."

"May I?" skekSil taunted, pulling Silvan up onto tiptoe. "And who are _you_ to say what Chamberlain may or may not do? You, who has no power here?"

He leaned into Silvan's neck, smirking, and Seladon thought again of the throne room, the day that skekSil's tongue and teeth and claws despoiled her, how he'd cackled into her ear as she shuddered and cried.

"Why are you not satisfied? Do you intend to rape us against _your_ Emperor's will, my Lord?"

"No, no," said skekSil, his voice laden with malice. "Of _course_ I respect my Emperor. Will wait til Chamberlain gains favour and is offered Gelfling as sweet, sweet reward."

He licked Silvan's face, his drawn-back lips, and Seladon thought that of all the Skeksis he was the most dangerous of all.

* 

After the hated Lord had gone the Gelflings lay on their shared bed in mutual silence, their backs turned to one another. Seladon felt a few quiet tears slip down her cheek onto her pillow, but kept herself held rigid to avoid Silvan noticing. It was only after a short, hitching breath gave her away that Silvan said, almost casually, " _I'll_ say what we're both thinking. I'm causing you more problems than I'm solving, aren't I?"

Seladon was too weary to answer. She shook her head, hoping that Silvan would feel the motion, but he babbled on, his bright, cheerful tone made awful by the ugliness of his words.

"I thought it would be _heroic_ , coming to your aid. Like the famous play, The Eve Of The Twelve, where royal twins exchange places to save the Princess from an unwanted marriage. Seems stupid now, doesn't it? If anything I'm disturbing the peace."

He drew a breath.

"Besides, I haven't heard anything about the escape developments, although I've been awaiting the signs. Got to wonder how they'll ever come about, or if I'll even be here to see them come to pass."

"You can't be sure of that. It's barely been a week-"

"A week is like a trine, in here."

"This isn't _you_ ," said Seladon, surprised. "You're not like this. You _believe_. You encourage me to look _forward_ , towards our escape. What happened to that?"

The questions came even though she knew, even though pain and humiliation twitched over them both like lice.

"You _saw_ what happened," said Silvan. "Knowing they'll drag your sister here and put her through _twice_ everything I've been through, that's what happened, too."

"You will _not_ die."

Seladon clenched her fists and turned over, glaring at Silvan's back.

"No matter what, I will ensure that you _live_. Even if I have to sell everything I know and have left to keep you safe."

"Don't be so dramatic."

"I mean it, Silvan. I _mean_ it. That world out there, the people I ruled- they feel so far away, intangible. _You_ are here, and you are _real_. I _must_ protect you."

"That's an idiot's talk, not an All-Maudra's," said Silvan, and he turned around too, his pretty mouth sneering. "You barely _know_ me. You want me alive out of selfishness- for someone to talk to, to keep you sane. I get it. But it's not worth suffering for. No one is. Don't squander what little I've done for you. You should have left that fucking vial where it was."

Shaking as if she'd been struck Seladon seized Silvan's face with both hands and hissed at him, keeping her rage as quiet as she could.

"How _dare_ you speak to me like that? Caring for someone else is _not_ selfish. Besides, would you rather I just let them destroy you? What kind of creature would I be then? I had no _choice_ but to take skekSil's offer. If there _had_ been you can believe I would have taken it gladly."

Silvan grasped Seladon's wrists and peeled them from his cool cheeks.

"Don't put your hands on me as if I was your sister. And whether you like to admit it or not, _Seladon_ , you would rather _I_ be fucked by the Skeksis than your darling Brea. So _let_ them. Let them do it. They've done it already, after all."

"I _can't_."

Quivering in Silvan's grip Seladon realised how uncomfortable she was to be so close to him, trapped, intimate, his heat frightening her.

"I'm tired of this fucking argument," he said, through his teeth.

"Why are you being so horrible?"

" _Horrible_?"

Silvan pushed his face close to hers, the delicate features suddenly mad, staring.

"You'd call _me_ that? The thing _they_ are? I suppose I am, after what the Emperor made me do to you. He's taking his sweet time with us, but it's going to get bad. And it'll be almost _worse_ for me, you know."

His breath on her lips was sweet, disgusting sweet.

"Because you're beautiful, All-Maudra, a little part of me is going to like what the Skeksis make me do. And I'll have to live with that until they kill me. Maybe I'll be glad when they put an end to things."

The misery and bitterness in his voice wrenched at Seladon's stomach.

"You think I don't _know_ how it feels?" she asked, shakily. "The Emperor- he forces me to- to endure pleasure in what he does. With anyone else I would chase it, but with him- I wish I could set myself alight to burn that feeling out of me."

Silvan flinched away, dropping Seladon's wrists and wiping his hands as if she'd stained him. Still Seladon talked, ashamed to speak such vulnerable thoughts aloud.

" _You_ are the first Gelfling I have ever touched like that," said Seladon. "There was no-one else, before. It's confusing to feel these things in here. Where there's no _choice_. Where neither of us can think. I don't understand what it means, or why. And you look so much like Brea-"

"This was a mistake."

The boy got up and sat at the other side of the chamber, facing one of the mirrored walls, his shoulders hunched.

"I wish it hadn't been, but it _is_. And neither of us can take it back."

They sat apart, brooding to themselves, until a Podling came with their dinner. Afterwards they returned to their lonely positions, and Seladon wished she knew what to say to ease the discord between them.

It continued for a day or so; they received no Skeksis visitors, and having only the usual poor reading material to get through the days felt achingly long, the nights even more so. Then, at last, at some unknown afternoon hour Seladon was summoned to skekSo's chamber, and as she rose from the bed she felt Silvan's eyes follow her keenly.

As she reached the door his hand touched her shoulder, spinning her around with a speed that made her dizzy. To her lips Silvan pressed a kiss so sudden that Seladon felt only a helpless bewilderment in response to it.

"Why?" she asked, softly.

There was an expression of hunted desperation in Silvan's eyes, and as she ran off to the Emperor's chamber Seladon felt that she understood it, wanting nothing more than to return to the boy despite their quarrel.

"How pretty you look today, All Maudra," said the Emperor, raking his gaze over the green satin she had selected from her dressing room. "Like a forest insect. So delicate. Easily crushed."

Seladon curtsied as best she could in the long gown and fiddled anxiously with the trim, her mouth too dry to answer.

"Can you make a guess at _why_ I have asked for you, Seladon?"

She shook her head.

"I don't know, my Lord. Although it has been some time since our last... our last..."

"Can't decide between crudeness or euphemism, eh? You are afraid to antagonize me. I understand. Such a beautiful little thing must fear the bruising of her skin, amongst other things."

Frowning, Seladon looked into skekSo's eyes and recognised the shine of Essence within them.

"You found the vial," she said.

"I found the vial," skekSo repeated, gesturing for Seladon to join him on the bed. "A curious development, considering I had Podlings scour my chamber from top to bottom in search of it. Were they so _incompetent_ as to miss it? Or did you endevour to have it returned to appease me?"

"I... didn't take it, my Lord," said Seladon, faintly.

She stopped dead in her tracks, fear setting the hairs on her neck upright, one by one.

"Oh no, of course not," skekSo breathed. "Little thief who tried for death. Come here."

The Emperor pulled Seladon to him by her chain and pushed his cold, shining beak other satin-clad breasts, making her recoil from the stink of him.

"Perhaps I will _never_ let you die, not even when I'm weary of you. Perhaps that will be my ultimate punishment. In three thousand trine when I reign, youthful and victorious, you will be kept alive by the Scientist's methods, preserved completely as you are now, smooth, supple, beautiful. _Tortured_. Think of it, All-Maudra. Your soul, ancient, crippled, your mind still clear, clever, able to comprehend every atrocity."

skekSo exhaled, and the stink of rot was so pungent that Seladon turned her head to heave.

"I have envisioned it all. There will be orgies of pleasure and horrors, fucking and death becoming one, you at the centre of it all, my perfect jewel, gleaming silver amongst the reds and pinks of blood. So clean, so _beautiful_ , like crystal light through darkness. But first..."

The Emperor pushed the green satin down Seladon's body until it pooled like moss around her feet, then pushed her down flat upon it, playing his fingers over her skin.

"....A more immediate punishment."

skekSo tugged the bottle of Essence from his robes and dripped it across her breasts, her stomach, between the lips of her cunt, breathing heavily as she began to squirm with pain and ecstasy. The Emperor didn't immediately drink it from her, only watched as the beads rolled excruciatingly down Seladon's body.

"I have made my decision on your sister's virginity, when she is brought to me," said the Emperor. "When the Garthim Master returns with news of the war and developments on the Sifa coast I will deflower her. The status of that news will determine exactly how _merciful_ I will be."

skekSo tugged Seladon's nipples, rolling her own Essence into the flesh so that she gibbered in wordless suffering.

"If it is _good_ news I will be gentle. I will have you and your siblings bathed and rubbed in desert-vanilla oils, your hair dressed with flowers. You will be brought naked but for the slightest chains to my chamber, where you will drink wine and share Essence with me. You will caress you sister's lovely cunt with your fingers and tongue until she comes, and then you will guide my cock inside her."

The Emperor scored his talons across Seladon's stomach, allowing the Essence to sear the fresh wounds.

"You will touch yourself while I take the last of the princess's innocence, and when I have finished you will spread your thighs for me. It will be no worse than any fucking I've given you before. But if the news is bad..."

The talons sunk a little deeper.

"...I will have you all beaten until you cannot walk, and I will have your sister chained upright so that she is forced to stand on her ruined limbs as I take ownership of her precious cunt. And when I have used her I will let my brothers at her, and yours, then perhaps in her delirium she will remember some slip of information that will be of use to me. If not, we will drain her again."

"There is no need, for that" Seladon yelped. "Prince Silvan and I will give information gladly, in exchange for a better life. _Amenities_. We were planning to propose it to you, please, Emperor..."

"A better _life_ , little poisoner? What a sudden change in desire this is."

The Skeksis turned Seladon onto her front and began to slip drops of Essence into the runnels of her wings. It was like having sharpened steel raked down her spine, but at the same time like being kissed by a thousand tiny soft mouths.

"Emperor, I-"

"You've been begging for death since your first day in my keep. And now you want to be _comfortable_ , accept the spoils I've often dangled to encourage your good behaviour. All these desperate tactics and not a single ounce of honesty behind them. After all, where was this _suggestion_ when your brother was tortured in the draining chair?"

The Emperor slipped down onto the floor beside her and began to lap the Essence from Seladon's skin, her wings, his diseased tongue sending rapturous shudders through her flesh.

"I... I... I didn't think..."

"You are right; you did _not_. I thought that you were meant to be _intelligent_ , and yet you make blunder after blunder. Perhaps you _want_ to be punished. Perhaps you want to be taught obedience."

The Skeksis pulled the chain at her throat until Seladon croaked for breath. His other hand, coated with Essence, opened her cunt and made it slick, painful, tingling with orgasmic spasms at almost the first gliding finger.

" _Please,_ Emperor," Seladon bawked. "There are- things we have- _remembered_ that might be useful to you. Let us exchange them for..."

The Emperor thrust another finger inside her, another, until every talon filled and stretched her to the knuckle. Weeping, Seladon twisted her head back to look at him and saw the Emperor was barely listening, his eyes focused on his own twisting hand.

"There _is_ one way you can earn such a thing," he said, idly. "But I will make you work even for me to speak of that."

He didn't need to put it into words for Seladon to guess what that could be.


	10. Undiscovered Country

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silvan and Seladon deepen their bond

The hours in the Emperor's chamber stretched as boundlessly as a book without end, terrible in that, somehow, it almost became banal. Some small, buried grain in Seladon screamed at each tingling bead of Essence upon her, but she had forced it so far within her that it was like a voice at the bottom of a well, faint and indistinct. 

At least this Essence was another's- _whose?_ some unknown Gelfling's skekSil had bargained from the lab? -and likely diluted, not eating at her with the cannibal glee her own had done in the Draining Chair. The Emperor had seemed fascinated by the cruelty of pouring Seladon onto herself, like serving a portion of her own flesh on a silver plate. _That_ had sickened her more than this Essence did now, the last life of some nameless dead.

Was it _selfishness_ that made her so cold, Seladon wondered, or that her own suffering was more real to her? Besides, there was so much about Essence that Seladon didn't yet understand, and preferred _not_ to know; ignorance was a barrier, her protection, and in that cold pit of her mind Seladon knew that behind Silvan's bluster he resented that she'd made him drink of it so shamelessly.

_But I am **alive**. My Essence wasn't taken from something dead. I wouldn't have given him **that**._

_**Would** I? **Would** I?_

Seladon shook herself from such thoughts and made herself concentrate on the here and now. She begged the Emperor to accept the offer of exchange: information for luxury, for something _more_ than the bed in the dark, mirrored room. He said 'no' as he had so many times before, until the word no longer made sense to her. Hissing into her ear he filled her from behind, growling against her cunt as his cold metal beak pushed between her folds.

"No. No. _No_."

Again, again, _again_ , the single vowel driving Seladon half-mad.

She was so drunk on her own Essence that the room stopped feeling real to her. Rolling in the satin of her own dress Seladon hallucinated fragmented patterns and colours that weren't there, as if her eyes had become windows to another world. skekSo seemed well amused with her response, for Seladon was so limp and helpless that he was able to fold her into positions that her stiff form usually forbade him.

Somehow after much of this Seladon managed to whisper through wetted lips, "Let us tell you what we know, my Lord Emperor. To the Chamberlain..."

"Sopped in infinite delights of Essence and _this_ is all you think of," said the Emperor, dragging a talon along her inner thigh. "Foolish Gelfling. Perhaps I'll soon have the opportunity to use the ichor of one of your rebel friends rather than your own."

The Skeksis' tiny eyes shone with self-indulgent menace.

"Besides, do you not realise that your time alone with me is one of these _luxuries_ of which you speak? Away from your room, _pleasured_..."

Seladon let out a terrible, shuddering laugh, and skekSo turned upon her, blood, ejaculate and Essence gleaming on his face.

"You would _beg_ for my attentions if I left you alone in that room without your brother, All-Maudra, if you were abandoned long enough. That, or death; would you like me to demonstrate it?"

"No, my Lord," said Seladon, turning her head away from him.

"Then control your mirth."

After he was done with her and they were both panting with exertion Seladon tried to stand, but couldn't. The high of the Essence still threaded through her like a thousand tiny veins, and with it that nightmare pleasure.

skekSo gave her a withering look and said, "Stay where you are. You will sleep _here_ tonight, on the floor. Do _not_ attempt to argue."

Seladon nodded weakly, curling up in her dress as if it was a nest. Her mind brought forth images of skekSil's sly face turning to anger, the revenge he'd inflict if given half a chance. She would have to placate him, somehow, convince him that she needed more time to help him get his way.

"I have courtly duties to partake in," said skekSo, adjusting his robes and brushing them down. "When I return I expect to see you as you are now. Not that you would make much headway if you _did_ cause mischief; every drawer is locked against plunder, and the door will be barred, likewise."

"Yes, my Lord Emperor," said Seladon, her voice a pained whisper.

She had neither the physical nor mental strength to move when he had gone. Nor could she sleep, every molecule of her small form twitching and aching with sensation, keeping her wide awake. Her thoughts kept crawling back to Silvan, who despite his sunny pluck was declining as quickly as she was. She thought of his hot, maddened lips upon hers and wondered if she should feel furious or violated, but couldn't, not amidst everything else she was grappling with. 

She'd _wanted_ that kiss, been comforted by it, a stupid, fickle gesture from what felt like another time.

Some hours later Seladon heard the chamber door entering and the Emperor slipped inside, grunting softly under his breath. Seladon kept her eyes closed and feigned sleep, watching from under her eyelids as the Skeksis circled around her. He stood, looking at her, not making a sound. Then Seladon saw his long hands slither under his robes and he began to touch himself, fast, jerking strokes that were over as quickly as they'd begun. Seladon felt wetness on her naked back and started to cry again, tears slipping quietly onto the satin of her dress.

All night she lay awake, staring into the dark. When morning came she watched the Emperor stir in his colossal bed, staring at her with narrowed eyes.

"Leave, if you can stand," he said. "I do not want to see you again until today's feast. You _and_ your brother will be attending."

"Yes, Emperor," said Seladon, scrambling upright.

Her whole body was stiff, yet at the same time her spirits felt curiously lifted, the dual effect of the Essence upon her.

"And one more thing," said skekSo, almost as an afterthought. "If you _truly_ desire more freedom then you and your brother will perform before the court. Demonstrate your _willingness_ to appease me."

Despite the rolling wave of dread within her Seladon nodded and dressed, ignoring skekSo's predatory eyes upon her. She left the room, aware of the reek of Skeksis and her own body odour upon her.

 _ **This** I can stand,_ she thought, dully. _But Silvan, when it was him- when it's **him** again-_

As usual a Podling was guarding the mirrored chamber, although not one Seladon recognised. The little creature bobbed her head to Seladon and stepped aside, not returning her wavering smile.

"Took your time, All-Maudra," said Silvan, who was lying on his back on the bed, a book raised above his face.

He seemed brighter than he had yesterday, the cheer back in his eyes.

"You've missed a _development_ ," he continued. "But I suppose it's better that you don't know about it until the last possible minute. By Thra, I _wish_ I could tell you."

"What _do_ you mean?" said Seladon, crossing the room to sit beside him. "A... development with the escape plot, you mean?"

"Got it in one! Well done! And to think it was brewing under our noses all this time... it really is ingeniously simple."

" _Please_ don't torment me like this," said Seladon, putting a hand to her face. "I'm- I'm very tired."

"Sorry, but it's safer this way and you know it. Just thought it would bring your spirits up after- well, after our tiff."

Silvan had the good grace to look embarrassed, his eyes sliding away from hers.

"It doesn't matter now," said Seladon. "I couldn't convince the Emperor to accept my bargain. He offered- a different one."

"Which is?"

Seladon found herself unable to vocalise it. It was ridiculous how shy and foolish he made her feel, although he had seen her at her lowest, although he'd already had his mouth between her thighs.

"Ah," said Silvan, his expression darkening with realisation. "I'll think of something to make it less unpleasant." 

"What we _really_ need to think of is how to keep skekSil's tongue held. He'll be angry if I don't win his favour with the Emperor."

"We'll talk our way around him," said Silvan. "You know how much he enjoys a play of words."

He sat up, his long hair falling upon his shoulder like braided silver cord, and Seladon felt the urge to reach out and catch it between her hands. Instead she said, in a rush, "You know, you're not a _bit_ like my sister, really. She questions everything and anything, wants to understand how everything works and where it comes from. Every time you open your mouth you already seem to _know_ , good or bad."

Grinning, Silvan shrugged his shoulders and the hair fell back into place again.

"All part of the act. Who knows _anything_ for certain, any more?"

Later, when they'd gone through the dull routine of making themselves up for the feast, a knock came on the dressing room door, one that Seladon had anticipated. She twitched her wings anxiously, but pulled herself regally upright, determined not to crumble, not _yet_ , not before she'd even faced the hated creature.

"Many greetings, All-Maudra," said the Chamberlain, almost purring as he approached her at the dressing table. "Rumour is that that _vial_ was found safe, as promised. Is this so?"

"It is, my Lord," said Seladon, coolly. "Or so the Emperor believed."

"How lucky Vapra clan Essence was in lab. Emperor would not know difference."

Seladon sat as close to the mirror as she could, avoiding the thick, plush folds of skekSil's robes rubbing against her. He crept forward, leaning over her shoulder.

"Had audience with Lord Emperor, yes?" the Chamberlain enquired. "Time to discuss proposition on my behalf?"

Silvan made to say something, but Seladon raised a hand.

"He was disinclined to accept," she said. "But if you allow me to try again I'm sure he will be moved to listen. He... doesn't trust me."

The Chamberlain tutted with his beak.

"There is _so_ little time before the Garthim Master's return. Seems All-Maudra did not try _hard_ enough. Pity. _Pity_. Chamberlain put self at risk to make suggestion and yet-"

"I know, and I _promise_ that I will try again every day that I'm alone with him. But he is suspicious. He doesn't believe that I know anything useful. Or he thinks I'd only lie. I need more hours to convince him to allow us an opportunity."

"Perhaps if All-Maudra had behaved and accepted place as prisoner this would not be," said the Chamberlain, shaking his head. "Such unnecessary suffering. Such useless pain."

"Please," said Seladon, turning to face him. " _Please_ , my Lord. I know you don't like me, and trust me the least of any of the Skeksis. But you must believe that I tried, and will keep trying to get you what you desire."

"Talk, only talk. Always All-Maudra has been good at pretty, empty speeches, meaning nothing at all."

"Then let me prove to you that I will do anything for my safety, and my siblings'." said Seladon.

Swallowing her hatred and disgust she got down from her stool and put her hands on the front of the Chamberlain's robes, slipping her tiny hands inside. He wasn't hard; his cocks hadn't even yet emerged from the cavity in which, unstirred, they lay.

Seladon's stomach seemed to jump like a fish inside her. She loathed the ancient, papery folds of skin, the odour of dirt and sweat and sex mingled with perfume. Still, she touched him quickly, softly until he was hard in her hand, and aware of him staring down at her with a mix of curiosity and disgust.

"What's this? This is not how All-Maudra negotiates. Desperate Gelfling. No better than whore."

But he didn't push her away, only watched with that same, fascinated revulsion as Seladon took him into her mouth.

She could still taste his rank seed as she walked with Silvan to the throneroom, unable to turn towards her friend out of the sheer embarrassment of what she'd done. Enduring rape was one thing, but to bargain with sex of her _own_ accord- it felt filthy, beneath her, and yet it was like every other base, ruthless thing she'd done to protect those she loved. She had to stand by her choice, _all_ her choices. Anything less would doom her to the yearning of death she'd seized at before. 

As they approached the throneroom Silvan paused, sniffing the air. The sound of crashing plates, cawing laughter drifted through the doors, giddy with the influence of Essence, and with it the accompany smells of food, wine, and the many scents the putrid beasts announced themselves with to conceal the stink of filth and age.

"That _stench_ ," said the boy. "Tell me you can smell it too."

"There are many things tainting the air," Seladon replied, arching a brow. "Which do you mean?"

She looked at Silvan more closely and saw the pinned smallness of dread in his eyes.

"That _sweetness_ ," he said. "I've smelled it on the Emperor. On _you_ , at times. The water you gave me. And the laboratory stank of it."

Then Seladon understood.

"They drink Essence during their feasts," she said. "A lot of it. When they can aquire it. They must have harvested more."

She saw a ghoulish shade pass over Silvan's face, and there again was that painful awareness that she had closed herself off to what that foul liquid consisted of, the suffering and death that had been condensed into each small glass.

"You _can't_ let yourself think about it," said Seladon, urgently. "Do not let them own you with despair. It's what they want."

It was odd to be comforting another again, and it strengthened her, slightly, restoring the semblance of regality again. But when Silvan threw his head back and laughed Seladon heard that dangerous strain of hysteria again, the same note that had touched him during their disagreement.

"I _wish_ I had your mind, All-Maudra. Whatever it is in there that makes you look past them eating our dead- I want it."

"You have it already, if you've walked the stage."

Neither of them displayed emotion as they entered the throneroom, even as they faced the Skeksis, each buried in their meals with Essence gleaming on their beaks like rainfall. Still Seladon sensed Silvan's horror, saw in the cool beauty of his face a latent madness. Carefully she reached out and caught his hand, finding his mind closed to Dreamfasting. Squeezing his fingers she willed him to open it, open it, _open_.

"My _esteemed_ guests," said skekSo, from his place at the table. " _You_ will replace the Podling choir today. A great achievement for two such _useless_ specimens as the fallen Gelfling race. But since Seladon begged for the privilege so _convincingly_ how could I refuse?"

skekSil, sitting to the Emperor's right, caught Seladon's eye and glowered. Jealousy steamed from him like a vapour, but with it a perverse curiosity.

"I _doubt_ , however," skekSo continued. "Your motivations, both of you. _Most_ siblings would rather cut their own throats than lay a hand on one another. What scheme compells two Vapran royals to lie together willingly, I wonder?"

Silvan lurched towards the Skesis, no doubt ready with a harsh retort, but Seladon pulled him back, shoving him behind her. 

"We are _not_ willing," said Seladon. "We are _surviving_. Do not mistake the two, Emperor."

The Skeksis court burst into screeching, drunkard laughter, banging the table with their fists.

"Very well," said the Emperor. "You will do your _surviving_ on your back with the boy between your legs, like the concubine Queens of other lands, buying their way to better things. I have not yet seen you coupled in such a way. Time for that to change."

He gestured for Seladon to lie on the filthy tiles beneath her feet, leaning forward to watch as she splayed herself before the table, carefully flattening her crooked wings beneath her. She didn't let go of Silvan's hand, still inwardly begging for him to allow her in. His eyes flicked across the feasting Skeksis, moving from face to face, as if noting them on some internal list.

"Silvan," said Seladon, softly. "Come here."

He fell to his knees, the chain at his throat brushing across Seladon's breasts. The coldness of its touch made her shiver. Silvan gazed down at her, and the icy, princely facade cracked into devastation. Seladon caught the chain and pulled him down upon her, her lips to his ear.

"Dreamfast with me. It will be like you said. _Easier_. We will fly away from here."

For a moment the boy resisted, and Seladon couldn't blame him; to share one's memories was a precious and personal thing, even shameful, at times, as it had been showing her people the Skeksis' cruelty all those unnum before. Then his fingers clenched on hers, and Seladon felt the sudden, smiling warmth of his mind, his thoughts, the playfulness behind the torment.

_Very well, All-Maudra. Let me show you my world. It only seems fair, don't you think?_

Images rose in Seladon's mind, dirty streets full of shouting street vendors, steaming banners and snowful trodden into mush. A wooden stage with a painted canvas, a crowd milling before it, laughing, murmuring, clapping. Figures moved upon the stage, each in sumptuous costumes and masks and makeup transforming them into figures Seladon recalled from stories and poems.

_See if you can find me. I'm there._

In the physical realm Seladon felt Silvan's hands between her bruised thighs, pushing them apart with the aching gentleness of a lover, felt his lips on hers. The shrieks and taunts of the observing Lords felt so very far away.

**_Where? Those men are too tall to be you, and that woman-_ **

_The woman?_

**_That's you? The Princess in the fire crown? I would never have known._ **

_And now. Look at this._

_**The scene has changed- you're a Duke, and now a wizard, and- I see it now. The way you stand- you're so clever.** _

_Oh, don't I know it_.

_**Show me more.** _

The sting of being entered in the throneroom, the ugly thrust of the beautiful thing she had looked upon in the dressing room, only mattered for the briefest of seconds, even the ache of him rocking against her, within her, quickly paled in the eclipse of the sumptuous plays Silvan projected into her mind, a hundred stories he had breathed live into, and still remembered word for word.

**_The way people look at you. Loving you. They all know your name._ **

_I was quite the celebrity. Not like a Prince, but, you know, it wasn't all bad, for a street rat._

_**You were** _ **never** _**a street rat. The costumes were too incredible-** _

_Oh, they'd been stitched up a thousand times. I'll take you for a little walk, show you my digs. They weren't exactly the heights of glamour, either._

Seladon felt one of the Lords throw a goblet at her shoulder, showering her in wine, felt Silvan's hand wipe it from her cheek and hair and press his hand to the bruise as he rocked against her. He wasn't so big inside her as the Emperor, nor skekUng; he felt as Gelflings were meant to, to one another, and it made the pain so much _less_.

_This **is your home? Just this little room, with the curtain across the middle?**_

Was _, but yes. My mother lived on one side, and I the other. She never let me fly the roost, bless her heart. She was quite rightly worried what mischief I'd get up to if left to my own devices._

_**And your father?** _

_Never knew him. Could have been anyone. It was just me and my dear old Ma, and the occasional guest, whenever I had a moment alone._

Silvan showed himself tangled with a boy, a girl, a couple, sprawled, grinning in a heap of patchwork blankets, poor, dreadfully poor, but happy. Seladon smelled wine and sex and the musk of dirt on the blankets, feeling nothing but joy, and then a nostalgic sadness.

_**Your mother. What happened to her?** _

_I don’t know. Still out there, somewhere, I hope, but who knows?_

The Dreamfast faltered, and the shame of Silvan mating her before their gruesome audience rushed at Seladon like a monstrous tide.

_**Something else. Please. Quickly-** _

_Alright. Something strange. Might interest you. It happened years ago, I almost forgot it, but-_

Another change of scene, shifting suddenly to a forest, soft and damp and dark.

_I went camping, once, with an old beau. He was wealthier than I was, and didn't want any of his friends to know that he was slumming it with an actor rather than some fine gentleman. During the night he went missing. I woke up and he was- gone. I thought he'd run off, but then-_

Twisted trees rose on either side of Silvan's running figure, birds screamed in response to him calling a name into the dark. Then a lone shoe, caught on a root, and a small figure, hooded, dressed in furs, crouched over the dropped thing and blinking out of the gloom with white eyes.

**_What_ ** _was_ **_that? A Gelfling?_ **

_I don't know. I don't remember anything after that. Like- it was like I was_ made _to forget, somehow. Some magic, perhaps. I turned back, left the forest, and I never saw my man again. Whoever that odd little thing was- it_ took _him, I'm sure of it. But not_ me _. I lived and breathed another day._

Again he showed her the figure, the sad, white orbs of its eyes, his effortlessly glamorous figure pelting through bracken and moss back towards Ha'rar.

 _But that- that feeling, when I slipped away from that creature like a fish from a Nebrie's jaw. If either of us forget-_ that's _what living feels like._

**Yes. Yes.**

For Seladon understood what it was, the adrenaline of surviving, and as Silvan made her experience his wild joy she gasped against his mouth, and realised that she had come, and he in her, suddenly, without warning, and for the first time without shame, knowing the secret message between them.

At last Silvan peeled his hand from hers and they both returned to their shared present, the cold throneroom with its shoal of sneering beasts.

"How _repulsive_ ," skekEkt commented, flapping a handkerchief about her face in mock distaste. "It almost seemed like they _enjoyed_ it."

"Don't listen to her, Seladon" said Silvan, loudly enough that the Lords would observe his disdain. "Come on. That's enough theatre for one day."

He helped Seladon to her feet. She stood beside him, her teeth chattering. The fact that they had been so close, so _intimate_ , in and out, filled her with discomfort and affinity at once. Achingly she wished that she could be alone, but knew from the intoxicated leer on the Emperor's face that it was not to be.

"I agree with you, skekEkt," said skekSo, slurring a little. "Our little pet Prince has talent. I will take use of it again, soon enough. Now, begone. I grow weary of your distractions."

"What about our reward?" said Silvan, sharply. "You promised my sister-"

One of the Lords threw a plate across the room, and skekSil screeched, "Emperor said _leave_! If Gelfling push Lords' patience will get _nothing_."

"Come _on_ ," said Seladon, through gritted teeth. "Let's go. We have all we need."

As they hurried back towards their mirrored room Silvan asked, "What _is_ it we have, exactly?"

"Time. More time."


	11. Ego

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Emperor and the Chamberlain have plots of their own. Silvan reflects on his situation

It was high time that the pet royals' glory came to its unnatural end. What had begun as a means to strike fear in the Gelfling nation had devolved into a ludicrous pantomime, skekSil being one of the very few skeptical members of its audience. He had only tolerated it for this long in the hope that the Emperor would exhaust his ridiculous game, sending the All-Maudra to her death as ruthlessly as he'd attempted to do all those unnum ago. But if anything skekSo had only plunged deeper into his obsession, whether out of delusion or by some unspecified design the Chamberlain no longer cared.

Not even the betrayer-queen's whore mouth on his cock had bought the Chamberlain's favour, nor would change his mind, pleasant though it had been to see her desperation. Not a single Gelfling captive had been meant to last as long as _she_ had, and it could go on no more.

 _Something_ had to change, and it would begin with eradicating the boy.

_Silvan._

Merely thinking the creature's name made the Chamberlain sneer with dislike. The Silverling boy had been a liability from the beginning, and they had _all_ seen it, entertaining him only to bring some life to the dull, cloistered trap of the castle. Silvan was a waste of valuable time that should have been devoted to doubling search efforts for the pure-blooded Vapra Princess Brea, if _pure_ she and her siblings were with their rumoured salt-snow blood.

Oh, the Chamberlain well-understood the Emperor's choice in slaves; although their titles were meaningless, the royal lines of each clan had been meticulously groomed by the Lords over a thousand trine into thoroughbreds of the highest quality. It was fortunate that Seladon's alleged father, pirate though he may be, had not marred Seladon's elegant beauty, had perhaps even added to it in what her plain-featured mother had lacked. But beauty be damned- the obsession with the royal line had spanned beyond a jest, and in regards to the Prince was senseless.

Even _dangerous_.

skekSil had been watching the boy since the day that skekUng had wrenched him through the castle doors, watched him for the inevitable signs of treachery simmering beneath that pretty face. To what end had the others overlooked such a risk? Silvan was beautiful, yes, but so were countless other Gelflings of a _far_ more placid nature. The boy was uncouth, sharp-tongued, difficult to control, qualities hardly coveted in a whore, let alone a _prince_. Now that the world had changed and the political validity of a royal captive was null one might expect the boy to have been discarded, but this had yet to pass.

There must be some other reason that the Emperor had kept the boy, and had not yet been too rough with him. Something to do with this _alleged_ sovereignty- but it was not merely alleged, it was outright _false_. Anyone with eyes could see that the growing friendship between Silvan and the All-Maudra was not _sibling-_ like at all, even of a brother and sister raised apart.

Had no-one _else_ noticed their little looks and whispers, the way that they'd held hands when the Emperor made them copulate before the court? The unhappy Gelflings had been Dreamfasting, skekSil was certain, an intimate act, comforting one another through the misery of humiliation. But perhaps other thoughts and images had been transferred between the two, secrets the observing court had been unable to extract with torture alone.

 _Let them have secret tryst for now,_ skekSil had thought. _Let Gelfling think selves clever and sneaking, let them grow closer, spoiled with poxy rewards. Let them have all so when Chamberlain destroys game their lying hearts break._

When the feast was over skekSil made his way towards the Scientist's laboratory, carrying an offering of food as a buffer against skekTek's suspicious temper. Their alliance over the unnum had been rocky, mainly due to the Chamberlain's ever-shifting loyalties- which had, after all, cost skekTek an eye -but on their dislike of the Vapran royals they were each in agreement.

Indeed, the Scientist had heavily implied his own doubts as to Silvan's heritage. Perhaps skekSil would agree to a temporary cease-fire, leaning his genius talents into exposing the truth. The potential outcome was something they could both benefit from: toppling the faux Prince from his pedestal and reminding the Emperor that any kept slaves should be treated as such, without luxury, without ornament.

The sooner the better; there had been a dark look about the Prince's eyes as he watched the Lords' table that hinted of some unknown danger.

Idiot boy. Whatever machinations Silvan had in mind for the court would be cut short, the Chamberlain would make sure of that. He would prove to the Emperor that _he_ belonged as skekSo's closest advisor, the eyes that saw what others did not, the tongue that unravelled truths.

*

The Emperor was beginning to dislike time alone, the pregnant weight of his thoughts latching, unchecked, onto even momentary silence. But he was beginning to need it more than ever, aching for an hour where he could sprawl, unseen, into balmy shade, purging the violet phlegm out of him.

After the day's feasting skekSo slid away to lie on his vast bed, grunting softly beneath the covers. He could feel the hungry disease gnawing him away, and it was rapidly occurring to skekSo that he needed to turn his attentions from desire to war, placing particular focus on hunting the rebels that would be most use to him.

The little Grottan who had stolen his Darkening, first of all.

Yes, yes, the Emperor would capture the little wretch, have her caged and tormented until she extracted the sickness from his body like venom from a deathly wound. Then he would break her into his sharpened tool, a weapon, experiment and play-thing all at once, a puppet to guide with his hand up her skirts.

As skekSo lay throbbing with the drunkenness of Essence he wondered why the often absentee Grottan clan seemed to throw the most troublesome yet potent creatures into the mix. With the Hunter's mad Gelfling woman still roaming the wilds there seemed rather too much unhinged power released from those gloomy caves, like poison from an unstopped vial.

Those that had eyes on skekMal's witch said that she did not look any older than the day that the Hunter had taken her; a side-effect of being broken in so harshly when her magic was still in bloom, it seemed, stunting her as much as it gifted. What wondrous effects the Essence of a shaman might have upon the Lords, making mind and body spry again.

Thra knew skekSo needed that, his mind most of all. The Emperor had found himself prone to forgetfulness, as of late, the business with the missing vial not even the start of it. He saw things, small things, scrabbling quickly at the corners of his vision like spiders, or dangling alarmingly from ceilings where there was nothing but dust. His moods, which had always been unpredictable, changed too quickly even for skekSo himself to comprehend, and his lusts and hungers were consuming him as surely as the Darkening within.

He had been sharp-minded, ruthlessly intelligent, once, and still was, beneath the fog. But the more that temptation danced before him the more the Emperor wanted to abandon himself to the glittering cocoons of pleasure, and think not of the dreary war.

But this could not be done. Without the more tiresome and lengthy processes of battle there would _be_ no Essence, and thus no reprieve from his crumbling mortal form. Still, skekSo was sure that his health would improve when the Garthim Master returned, his solid presence encouraging the Emperor to keep his focus. skekSo's right-hand man had no time for sumptuous fancy, military-minded to the bare bones of him. Had skekUng been on the throne he would have raped and drained the All-Maudra in the same hour before swiftly moving on to the next slave.

skekSo laughed at the thought, wiping cold sweat from his sickened forehead in the dark. He would need skekUng to restrain some of his stronger opinions, particularly when it came to the rapidly approaching need to set up a Gelfling breeding pit. When the Skeksis had first revealed themselves to their subjects they had thought only of ecstasy and destruction, having no tolerance left for stuffy politics when greater heights awaited them. But as the Gelfling fled in all directions it became apparent that _some_ needed to remain alive, at least for a short time, for the purposes of multiplying their stock.

Of the court only skekUng was privy to the complexities of this plan, the others only vaguely aware of the gears turning. This was the way skekSo preferred it to be, lest his brethren dissect the plot with their pompous opinions and suggestions. He vaguely remembered taunting the All-Maudra with the plan, from time to time, but she was by now so ruined by the harrows of fucking and Essence that he doubted she remembered much of it, or thought it nothing but bluff.

Little did she know that it was one of the few reasons her troublesome brother had been kept alive.

skekSo had notions of keeping two stock: the delicate and beautiful for fucking, and the vital for draining. Prince Silvan had both vigour and looks, the All-Maudra the latter; there was something to be said for having them whelp a modest litter or two somewhere down the line. Not too many, as it would not do to ruin Seladon's looks with motherhood, but enough to ensure the highest ilk would be the Emperor's no matter which way the war turned. Or perhaps Brea could be used in her stead, the less favoured of the two- either way the boy would be used until he was spent, and his little display in the throneroom had proved that he was more than virile enough.

Still, the breeding plan was far from finished. The Scientist's many studies and experiments over the trine had indicated that a female Gelfling had control over whether or not she conceived; few unwanted children were born amongst their number. This could be surpassed by means of threat or torture, skekSo supposed, but as of yet such a thing had not been trialled, which could present rather an issue were it to fail.

There would have to be precautions, stipulations, a fact the Garthim-Master had not ceased reminding the Emperor until he had left the castle. skekSo, of course, could make whatever demands he wished and have it taken as law- it would simply be pleasant to have skekUng's approval on matters, that was all.

 _Approval_. The Emperor had never cared for another Lord's favour before, not as he did now. He needed to know that there was at least one other Skeksis who thought him as cunning and as powerful as ever, still fit to be Emperor, rather than hankering with bated breath for his fall. Never would skekSo express such thoughts aloud, nor display a moment of weakness- another reason why he needed these hours alone where he could pick his vulnerabilities apart, thread by thread, and lay them out before him, as he might a map of his crumbling empire.

Coughing, skekSo turned onto his side and coughed a clot of purple-black phlegm into a spittoon beside the bed. Still numb with Essence he felt no pain, but his lungs would burn tonight, he could feel it. Perhaps he would have the Scientist make him some soothing elixir of some kind.

But for now all he could do was rest, and try not to brood too much over plans which were still many weeks away. There was time yet for enjoyment, of the All-Maudra, of the boy, his beautiful little prizes. Time was infinite when one was the Emperor of the world.

*

 _What a damned fucking mess_ , Silvan thought as he steered the All-Maudra's stiff little figure down a cold corridor. _I came here to save the queen, not drown her in this bloody mire. Well done, Silvan. Well done_

He could smell her all over him, the musk of her womanhood, the regal spice of her skin. It made him want to claw his fingers down his throat and vomit, to peel his skin off the muscle with his fingernails, purging himself of what he had done to her. Silvan knew that the All-Maudra had accepted, _understood_ that they had no choice, but knowing that he'd put his hands on her, spilled his seed inside her tight little body when her eyes had looked so sad and soulless, staring into his- he would never forgive himself, _never_ , nor the Skeksis for forcing him upon her.

If Silvan had only known what was _really_ happening within these castle walls he'd never have put himself forward in the first place. Someone _else_ would have finagled their way in, probably made Seladon's life a lot easier in the long run.

It wouldn't be so bad if Silvan's motive had been wholly good and true, but it had been prideful, _selfish_ , thrusting himself centre-stage, as always, as the silver hero whisking the imprisoned queen to safety. The war had harrowed him, certainly; his mother had vanished in the panic of the Skeksis' attack, the theatre troupe dissolved and scattered to the four winds, all running for their lives and clinging to survival by the skin of their teeth. But as lonely and uncertain and inept as Silvan had felt, it had been his ego, _not_ his loyalty to the crown or his people, that had driven him but the desire to play a prince again, one last time in this battle-eaten world.

And as honest as he'd been about this Thra had still seen fit to punish Silvan for his self-indulgence, it seemed.

It had always gotten him into trouble, that ego of his, since he was small. His mother, a seamstress for the Ha'rar theatrical troupe, had tried to apprentice him in the art of costume-making, but all Silvan had wanted to do was _wear_ what they made, having no patience for the needle. He used to hover about as his mother's friends rehearsed their lines, mouthing them until he knew each part back to front, and would run up and down the backstreets of the city acting against empty air, looking nothing short of mad to an outsider. It had driven his poor Ma to distraction, for he never bothered to tell her where he was going, or when he'd be home.

They would argue back and forth, which drove Silvan back to the actors again, who eventually noticed him staring yearningly at them day after day and took him on for minor roles. None of them had expected him to have such a knack for it, this bony little squit from the slums, but there he'd been, the gem in their tiara until the day the Skeksis turned.

His mother had hated it all- 'showboating', she called it, turning her nose up even when he brought a little money in. It was only when Silvan was grown that he realised it was the _attention_ she disliked, beckoning potential danger to her beloved son.

How right she had been, after all.

Look where that _showboating_ had taken him. Silvan remembered clearly the look of dull, grim horror in Seladon's eyes as she explained exactly _why_ she was still alive, like the eyes of a dead fish in a stream. She was very different from how people had described her, before the war, cold and hard, and, too, the All-Maudra she'd been at the height of it, regal, passionate. The Skeksis had deformed her spirit, making her desperate, impulsive, like a beast gnawing its own leg off to escape a trap.

That madness Silvan felt in himself, too, its black teeth latched deep.

They were the same now, the two of them, and Silvan knew that his presence was only quickening the dark, unhinged lunacy behind Seladon's eyes. It was drawing them close in a way that frightened Silvan, who'd been in love enough times to know that this _thing_ , this _friendship_ , was a fire in a snowstorm, a phenomenon that would not last.

Did either of them really think that it would continue once they left this place? It wasn't _only_ what they'd been forced to do to each other, which was bad enough, but that they barely _knew_ each other, hadn't truly let their guards down in each other's presence even though they'd eaten, bathed, fucked and pissed in the same room for weeks. He felt it in Seladon like an invisible shield of thorns, restraining as much of herself as she shared. And it was the same for Silvan, who had played so valiant but hadn't let her see the cowardly, self-serving belly of him underneath.

 _Thra_ , it wasn't meant to be this way, Silvan rued as the chamber door loomed ahead. Seladon was either _not_ his type or too much so, swinging from hot to cold, quiet and controlled, stiff where his previous lovers had been free, intense where they had been lax. It it hadn't been for the situation they were now in she would never have looked in Silvan's direction, and he wouldn't have had the patience for her. She was hard work, this one, and yet-

The Podling guards opened the mirrored chamber, ushering Silvan and Seladon in. The All-Maudra's tired face turning to examine the room made Silvan ache with muddled admiration.

_Damn it. You need to get hold of yourself._

"They've given us another bed," said Seladon. "And chairs. And books written by our own people."

"Don't get too excited. Even 'rewards' come with a price in this dump."

Silvan crossed to one of the chairs and pushed it roughly. It didn't move.

"They're nailed to the floor. Clearly don't want us throwing them at the walls or barracading the door with them. Pity."

"The _beds_ aren't."

"Yes, well, we might be able to _lift_ them, but that's about it."

Seladon began tugging a sheet off one of the beds and knotted one end through the headboard of the bed beside her. For a sick, dreadful moment Silvan thought that she was making a noose, and was equally repulsed by an answering call of yearning within him. Shuddering, he shook it away.

The All-Maudra was dragging the sheet up over the oil lamp fixture; Silvan had never seen her fly before, and the crooked angle of her wings even in flight, the unexpected imperfection of it, was so endearing that it hurt to watch her. Looking bashful and awkward under Silvan's observations she landed and dragged the bed closer to one wall so that she could stretch the sheet taut. Only then did Silvan realised what she had done, and had to look away so that she didn't see the pain in his expression.

"I thought... I could make it like your old room," said Seladon. "In your Dreamfast. I know it's nowhere near the same, but-"

"Close enough," said Silvan.

He smiled, touched the sheet and said, "Thank you. I might lie down. It's been quite a day."

Silvan was glad of the sheet, then, for once he was behind it he began to shiver uncontrollably, his temperature running hot and cold at once. Seladon's kind gesture had triggered an unwelcome enslaught of thoughts and feelings, memories of his mother, who'd he'd last seen throwing a bag of her possessions together, tears rolling down her face, of himself fleeing from outpost to outpost with no idea whether he'd live or die from one day to the next. But he'd missed the past more than he'd ever feared for his safety; how stupid had that been?

That night when he and Seladon slept in their separate beds Silvan realised that as blissful as the sudden privacy was it let him think too much. He had tried to be the strong one- if plans went well he wouldn't _need_ to be strong, any longer -but this day had tipped him over the edge, the smell and sounds of Seladon's unwilling wetness replaying again and again. Then with it came others, his tongue in Seladon's cunt, his mouth swallowing the Emperor's cock, straining over the stinking flesh as the creature grasped his hair, skekSo fucking him so hard that something had torn and he'd been far too proud to say-

Silvan sat up, knowing that he'd be unable to sleep, and massaged his forehead. He wished the Podlings had left wine in the room, for he would have drunk himself into oblivion, if he could. That was the way he'd always handled things before this mess; whether a play had gone badly, or some partner had broken things off to pursue a more stable partner, it was to the drink he invariably went.

He wondered if the Podling guards outside the door would bring it to him, if he asked. Most likely not, too scared after Seladon's suicide attempt to step out of line. Perhaps that was another luxury he could barter for- but truthfully Silvan would rather take death than be touched by those monsters again.

If there was one thing he disliked about Seladon it was her impulsive decisions, bogging them both down in the shit.

She was doing her best, Silvan knew, but that best had been skewed by the position they were in, making her reckless and impassioned. He could hear her breathing in the dark, not even enough to be sleeping. Her mind was no doubt tortured by the same sick thoughts that haunted his- and yet the notion of speaking to her, sleeping _alongside_ her, made him feel bleak with nausea.

What a joke that fucking a pretty girl of his own species had crawled deeper into his thoughts than the Skeksis. But that, too, lay thick and black as a sludge of dead leaves within him, the smell of the Emperor, the brutality of being forced and yet treated as if he was some irrelevant afterthought, barely even _worth_ fucking.

Why was it so difficult to think ahead, knowing the plot had been secured, after all? An idiot's question; while Silvan been in bad places before- beaten and robbed in a ginnel, a relationship with a woman too old for him -none had been so bad as this. His mind was as wounded and his body, and Silvan knew that if this escape attempt failed there was a strong chance that his sanity would buckle before the rest of him.

That thought haunted him for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonsoir, late update I know but it's a funny time to be writing isn't it!! Plus both stories I'm working on are reaching really dark subjects that take a lot of energy to get right 🥺
> 
> Oh BTW a note regarding my easter eggs in this story that reference Lap Dog/Mercy! The other stories I've written I guess are AU, but could have occurred alongside Canon, whereas Ornament is something that clearly didn't happen in Canon but I'm gonna try to tie on with it/the prophecy at some point!! So oddly I consider them both AU's in their own universe but look, there are so many alternative realities who's to say they can't be characters in each other's stories?😉
> 
> Anyway, Ornament is winding down towards the end now- the one thing I'm thinking about is if I'll change anything about the ending, I'm thinking I'll add some changes but not too many I hope so it'll be finished faster!
> 
> BTW it's my 26th birthday today whoop!!!


	12. Kiss Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seladon receives another reward

The days that followed Seladon being made to lie with Silvan were all almost exactly the same: waking, dressing, attending feasts or concerts, visits to or from the Emperor. Constant socialisation, constant _humiliation_ , an obvious response to Seladon's begging for more freedom. skekSo's eyes gleamed with a constant, cruel glee, seeming to say, " _See_? How can you and your brother be dissatisfied now? What else could you ask of me?"

Seladon didn't know what to do. skekSil hadn't asked about their deal since she'd pleasured him into temporary silence, but she knew from his quick, sly looks whenever they were in the same room together that this wouldn't last for long. Yet there was nothing Seladon could do but wait for Silvan to reveal more details of his mysterious escape plan, and thus far he'd refused to give even the slightest hint.

"The time isn't right," he'd say, shrugging his shoulders. "I'll know when it comes. Have a little faith, All-Maudra."

But it was difficult to trust even him, now, for little by little the boy had begun to grow thin and wild-eyed, every beating and torment grinding the shine from him. He still smiled and joked and recalled tales of his adventurous past, but his jokes often floundered, the stories becoming increasingly bittersweet. Bruises laced his temple and collarbone from the Skeksis' daily torments, although the assault that had _most_ pained him hadn't yet been repeated.

The Emperor was not quite as interested in Silvan as he was Seladon, it seemed, or perhaps there was some unknown and unpleasant reason as to why he kept his distance. But his few attacks on the boy seemed to have completely eaten at Silvan's mind, for at night Seladon often heard him scream himself awake, yet he never came to hold her, as he had before. Never sought her comfort, or advice. She had offered both, suggested Dreamfasting to take themselves away to the sun-drenched paradise of happier memories.

But he only kept to himself, brooding, shadow-eyed, alone.

It broke Seladon's heart, for in many ways _she_ was the cause, or his having to touch her was, at least. For a moment she had believed that they would become very close, and now it was evident that they wouldn't, another loss to add to a thousand others that had come with this war. Another small sharp thing to internalise and fold forcefully away into the little steel box of Seladon's mind.

However, knowing that the opportunity for freedom dangled so near had sharpened Seladon amidst the bleak fog of captivity, giving her much else to think about. It was time to strategise again, set emotion aside in favour of fortifying herself. Preparing in every possible way for escape. This strange emotional attachment she'd found herself embroiled in was compromising her sense of logic, and Seladon could see that as surely as she could see her own pale fists knotted in her lap.

But she couldn't escape it. Silvan _was_ someone to her, now, even if Seladon wasn't quite sure what that might be.

"Your brother appears worse for wear," skekSo hissed into Seladon's ear during one of the Podling choir's many discordant performances. "A guilty conscience, I wonder? Or is he merely so weak that he has broken long before his Queen-sister?"

One of the Emperor's hands slid down Seladon's thigh and gripped it, his talons grazing the already tender skin. Seladon tensed against his touch, aware of a dozen eyes watching them from around the room.

"There are services I want of your brother."

"I don't want to hear about such things, Emperor," said Seladon, thinly.

"Ah, _All-Maudra_ , your mind is so limited. Or depraved, perhaps. There are so very many things to be asked of a body besides what _yours_ is useful for. Besides, I tire of you thrusting yourself into your brother's place to protect him, playing the martyr, when I know how very easily you turn to put other's necks on the chopping block. A false heroine, nothing more."

It shouldn't have hurt, still, after Seladon people had so graciously forgiven her, but it did; there was still truth in it.

"Yes, Seladon," breathed skekSo. "Be ashamed. Learn humility. Do not forget that it is because of your eagerness to suckle from the influence of the Skeksis court that your brother is my plaything. You sold your people as one might pedal whores in a marketplace. All for a crown."

The creature's talons vanished beneath Seladon's velvet skirts, finding her cunt with sickening ease. A poisonous flicker on pleasure swelled, as it always did when the Emperor touched her. He had learned her body in and out, knew what pressure to apply, how many ringed and tearing fingers it took to have her juices slipping down the back of his hand. Seladon heard little snickers from the Skeksis voyeurs, and had to bite down on a sickened cry in awareness of it.

"I have a suggestion that might appease you," the Emperor continued, as they both pretended to listen to the Podlings furiously beating their instruments. "I intend to take a private audience with you brother- if you endure it without complaint I'll grant you an afternoon's liberty of wandering the castle with a Podling escort. You may go where you like, within reason. Of course if you misbehave you will be punished, and I will reconsider extending such an offer again. What say you, selfish little Queen?"

Breath hitched in Seladon's lungs, and between her thighs she felt the sliding talons clench, encouraging a wetness there. It had been so long since Seladon had been allowed to do anything on her own terms, to see rooms that weren't for fucking or feasting or prettification. The idea of wandering a library, perhaps even finding a turret opening to a chink of daylight, a waft of air from the world outside- she began to shake uncontrollably out of sheer, aching want of it.

"Why?" Seladon whispered. "You don't like or trust me. You do not negotiate or offer rewards unless it serves your needs. So why offer me such freedom, Emperor?"

"The Scientist recommended it," said skekSo, sniffing derisively. "To prevent early mental decline, apparently. I well believe it; he has no care for you. In fact, I rather think he'd be glad to see you tossed out of a castle window and dashed to pieces on the ground below than see your face again. He hasn't forgotten his resentment, you know."

Seladon quivered, recalling how brutal the Scientist had been the day she had been drained, the flat, dead glow of loathing in his eyes, the real and machinised both. 

What scheme did skekTek have against her and Silvan? Something was wrong, Seladon could feel it. She wished that she had Silvan's sense of analysis; if there was one thing Seladon deeply struggled and often failed with it was intuiting the thoughts and behaviors of others. 

"However," the Emperor continued, breaking Seladon's thoughts. "The Scientist put his personal feelings aside to advise me that if you dissolve into utter lunacy in that room of yours you'll serve no more purpose to me, even to drink. After all, who knows what sickness would come of consuming Essence from an addled girl?"

His fingers moved lazily inside Seladon, and she swallowed a moan of pain.

"But you don't trust me," Seladon said, again. "Aren't you concerned that I might try to harm myself or one of your brethren?"

The Emperor laughed, the sound like the rasp of dry, dead leaves brushing across stone.

"I don't believe do such a thing while your brother is still living in the castle. Do not prove me wrong, All Maudra."

Nodding, Seladon endured the Emperor's fondling, squeezing her thighs tight in a futile effort to stave off her unwanted yet inescpable climax.

But in the end it rushed forward in a filthy wave, wetting the seat beneath her with guilty slickness as skekSo licked his diseased beak behind her.

When the concert was done Seladon was allowed to return to her chamber, where Silvan awaited. He hadn't been permitted to attend, some of his sharper retorts at dinner considered rude enough to earn the punishment of solitary confinement. Silvan had seemed glad to be left behind, but as Seladon looked at him through the hanging sheet she felt a violent pang of concern. The boy lay on his bed, gazing at the ceiling, his face very still, like the features of a statue in a mausoleum. 

"Silvan," said Seladon, tentatively.

The boy blinked several times, as if he'd been drawn from the midst of a deep and not entirely pleasant sleep. He sat up and shook himself, eyes rapidly sharpening.

"Well, All-Maudra, how was it? Can't have missed much, can I? That Podling yarbling gets worse by the day, Thra bless them."

Seladon quickly filled him in on her conversation with the Emperor, plucking nervously at her sleeve as she did so. She desperately wanted to seize this brief opportunity to wander the castle, but the fear of what skekSo would do to Silvan in private was so strong that she felt ashamed of even considering it. She watched his face anxiously, waiting for anger or disgust to flare. But instead he smiled and leaned forward, hands braced on his knees.

"Consider _this_ , All Maudra," he said. "Whatever the Emperor has in mind for me can't be so terrible, or else he'd want you there to witness it. Right? Right, yes. Of _course_ he would. So take the opportunity to get some air- or what _counts_ as air in this cursed place. Who knows, you _might_ be inspired on the liberation front."

"But it's... it's so unfair," said Seladon, dropping her head. "While I get to wander the castle unchecked you..."

She stopped, not wanting to word the disgusting acts. Somehow putting them into words was beyond her; even in her mind she never described them, only saw them, grim and ugly.

"That was always the plan," said Silvan, shrugging. "Be glad it's working at last."

"But shouldn't we be _suspicious_? If skekTek is behind it all-"

"Always be suspicious. _Always_. Every one of the Skeksis' decisions have a thousand different motives, all with a little squirming life of their own. So we play along. Meet every move. You know politics better than _I_ do, All-Maudra."

Seladon laughed at that. She _had_ , once, hadn't she? The false rules of a court the Skeksis had created, that she had only been allowed to excel in, like a parent indulging a child in a game. Now that game had changed, the rules ever-shifting, indeterminable. Besides, _now_ she was playing it as a broken prisoner, not a princess, nor a queen.

"I don't know _what_ I know anymore," said Seladon. "It seems that there's no use in cleverness if you are outwitted and plotted against at every turn."

A knock came at the chamber door: the Podling escort, come to take Seladon on her excursion. She lingered, unable to stop her eyes drifting across Silvan's bruises. There would be so many more by the end of the day, she was certain of it; part of her was glad not to witness their infliction.

As she turned to the door Seladon felt a hand on her shoulder, swivelling her back around. Silvan was staring at her, and again Seladon found herself acknowledging that he was handsome, that they might have had something true together, in some other world. Silvan tilted his head towards hers and their lips met- not with the aggression of their fight, but softly, softly, the tip of his tongue glancing hers. 

As it did so Seladon felt a hot fluttering sensation bloom between her thighs, what she'd felt when his face had been buried there, when his member had been, shame and desire and confusion all one.

"Silvan," said, when he pulled away, her voice barely more than a breath.

The boy grinned and raised his hands in mock apology.

"I couldn't leave things the way they were," he said. "Punish me for overstepping, if you will. I'll take it gladly."

"I don't want to punish you," said Seladon, dumbfounded. "But this- we _can't_."

The grin wavered, and Seladon saw the tightness of desperation in it. The timing of all this struck her very odd, and she did not like it.

"Silvan? What's going on?"

"Nothing. Nothing. Just felt like being spontaneous."

He was being flippant, but Seladon didn't laugh. She bowed her head to him slightly and said, "It's alright, Silvan. I _am_ coming back, you know.

Silvan's eyes dropped, and so did the little pretence at cheer.

"Well," he said, awkwardly. "Don't feel like you need to rush back on my account, eh?"

Flustered by the surreal altercation Seladon hurried from the chamber, nodding at the waiting Podling attendant. Seladon allowed herself to be hustled through winding corridors, barely noticing where they went, her thoughts jumbled into disarray. What was going to happen to Silvan when they were free from here? Seladon had family, a structure to uphold her, responsibilities to keep her focused, and sane. Where would a boy so broken and wounded find solace as he joined the endless battle against those who had hurt him? Seladon might not be able to protect him outside these walls, not when there would be so many others for her to defend, also.

"Where want go, All-Maudra?" the Podling attendant asked, jarring Seladon from her thoughts.

"The library, please," she said, quickly. "Then- somewhere I can see _outside_. If the Emperor allows it."

The Podling nodded, and Seladon let herself to be escorted to the vast library where skekOk awaited, simpering from behind a bookshelf. There were many walls of literature, far more than the Vapran palace had ever possessed, and Seladon was genuinely awed, both by the physical size and the wealth of information kept away from Gelfling eyes. Perhaps she could take a few books back to the room, having already ploughed through the additional reading skekSo had sent in record time.

"You may take _two_ at the most, and they must be returned in _pristine_ condition," said the Scroll Keeper, sharply, watching Seladon run her fingers over the spines of a few heavy tomes. "I won't have you Gelfling _filth_ sully my collection. Besides, that little head of yours couldn't possibly process much more reading than that."

"I will process it just fine, thank you, my Lord," said Seladon, testily, wedging a pair of books under one arm.

The Scroll Keeper snickered, licking the rim of his beak. 

"I highly suggest reading into your family history. You were doomed as a failed All-Maudra long before you were born. Your mother, a traitorous tyrant, your Grandmother cruel, a bully, your father-"

"What _they_ are is not what I am. Good day, my Lord."

Cheeks flaming, Seladon decided she'd already had quite enough of the library, or indeed anywhere Skeksis lingered to comment upon her. The Podling seemed to grasp her emotions, for it took her ever-hanging chain in its fist and gently led Seladon to the upper levels of the castle, showing her to an alcove with a balcony upon with an odd-looking horn pointed towards the sky. She recognised it as a thing once used to summon the Hunter, before he crumbled to his well-earned death.

But Seladon had no interest in such a thing, her concentration fixed instead upon the space beyond the balcony. Shaking, she gripped the balustrade, driven near to tears by the purity of the daylight, the green of the land rolling beneath the castle. The breeze touched her face like a kiss, a hundred kisses, like _Silvan's_. Her breath caught tight in her lungs, and she laid her head against the cool wall, trying to gather herself. 

If the Podling had not been gripping her chain like a leash Seladon could have sprung from the parapet, attempted an escape despite the many watching eyes around the castle. She could return to her friends, to her sisters, her people who needed her. To the blissful familiarity of her own kind, away from the filth and deceit of the castle, if she was not immediately caught and returned to it, of course, which in reality she most likely would be.

But that would mean leaving Silvan, as well as trying to orient her escape entirely alone across dangerous lands, and Seladon knew in her heart that she wasn't capable.

Gripping the balustrade Seladon peered over the edge at the ground far, far below. A terrible thought struck her: if she threw herself over the Podling would be forced to let go of the chain to avoid being pulled with her, allowing her to spiral down to her death on the courtyard below. But perhaps it wouldn't let go, allowing itself to be taken over with her. The Podlings had terrible lives here, too, beaten and enslaved and sent to their deaths. Either way there would be an end to this conflict, to Seladon's daily pain and humiliation-

Again Seladon shook head, apalled, and to her surprise the Podling spoke up, unbidden.

"I take All-Maudra back through servant quarters. Is quieter. No one see."

'No one' meaning the Skeksis. The poor little thing was thinking of _her_ feelings.

Rubbing tears from her face Seladon murmured assent and followed the Podling attendant down through the castle again. They walked through tiny doors she hadn't noticed before, entering dark passages the Skeksis themselves would be too large to enter. Passing a kitchen and empty Podling sleeping quarters they at last turned to a small corridor set apart from the others by a wooden trap door set into the floor.

Another Podling stood over it, watching Seladon with large, nervous eyes.

"Uldre?" Seladon said, startled. "What's going on? Why am I here?"

Uldre knelt and opened the trap door, letting a gust of cold, dusty air rise up into the passage. She pointed down it, then to Seladon, then to the trapdoor again.

"We made tunnel," she said. "Not through catacombs- not safe, Skeksis know death place too well -but behind, near outer wall, so Garthim no see. Many hours digging, digging. Make tunnel run deep. Comes out in Endless Forest. No one know. No one but Podlings, and some Gelfling."

Suddenly Seladon understood.

"You mean you _planned_ this? You... my friend, Silvan. He said there was a plot to rescue me. This is _it_ , isn't it? An escape tunnel. And you've only just finished it. Silvan was so concerned, he thought it would never-"

Uldre was nodding, her worried face softening a little.

"How long have you been part of the Resistance, Uldre?" asked Seladon, weakly. "All this time?"

The Podling woman shook her head.

"After Seladon hurt with poison, Uldre knew couldn't stand any more. Went to find Gelfling in hiding, offer... _savez_. Ah- alliance."

Dropping the Scroll Keeper's books Seladon rushed forward and grasped Uldre in an embrace. She tried to ignore the sick guilt of knowing she'd considered leaping from the balcony, uncaring as to whether the other Podling was yanked down with her or not. That wasn't her, just a desperate, impulsive thought. _Surely_ it was.

"I am so grateful to you," Seladon said. "To both of you. But I can't leave now, not without Silvan. I have to go back for him."

The Podlings glanced at each other, passed Seladon. Her stomach turned.

"No," she said.

The kiss. The _kiss_. Silvan had _known_ this was her chance, he had wanted her to take it. It had been his goodbye.

"No," said Seladon, stepping away from the trapdoor. "I can't let him die here. I've sacrificed too many people for my own life, I can't-"

"He did all for you," said Uldre, seizing Seladon's hand. "Don't waste. Please, Seladon."

Seladon shook her head- no, no, _no_ \- and wrenched herself from both Podlings' grip, ripping her chain so hard it must have burned the poor servant's palms. She spiralled away through the tiny passages, out into the main corridors again. By now she knew her way around the castle well enough to find the Emperor's chamber; she ran to it, breath burning her lungs, an inexplicable clawing terror ripping at her with unseen hands.

As the door loomed ahead of her Seladon felt her dress snag on a flagstone, and as she hurriedly bent down to free it a hand grasped her wrist and squeezed.

"Running around castle with no escort, hmm?" crooned that prim, hated voice. "Emperor will be most displeased."

 _I should have jumped_ , thought Seladon. _I should have jumped._

She wasn't sure whether she meant through the trapdoor or from the balcony.


	13. Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Emperor plays inquisitor

" _Do_ tell, All Maudra," said skekSil, his voice, as usual, dark and falsely sweet. " _Why_ are you here, so far from Podling escort? Did little freedom not appease, hmm?"

"I... felt _unwell_ , my Lord," said Seladon, quickly. "I decided to return to my chamber to rest. The Podling left."

She didn't like the icy glint in the Skeksis' eye. It struck her that he'd most likely waited for such a moment to engineer his will; the vicious creature was bitter, after all, that Seladon had never managed to convince the Emperor to covet him.

" _Unwell_ ," skekSil repeated. "I see. I see. Yet you are _here_ , at the Emperor's private chamber, yes? Not in your own room, locked safe. Here _without_ permission. Seems Seladon never went to own chamber _at all_."

He touched a hand to Seladon's chin and tipped it almost gently so that her gaze was fixed upon his.

"You do not fool Chamberlain. Lies are thin, like summer cloud, easy to bring to light. All-Maudra knows Prince Silvan is with Emperor. Is _concerned_. Enough to risk punishment for running around castle alone."

"And that surprises you?" snapped Seladon, wrenching her head away. "I care for my brother."

The Chamberlain's head turned on its side, and the hand still gripping Seladon, although genteel, tightened just a little.

" _Brother_. This, too, Chamberlain questions, but we shall see, hmm?"

He ushered Seladon to the Emperor's chamber door and knocked, his eyes never leaving Seladon's face. She thought of flying at him, striking for freedom from the same place she'd fled, but Seladon knew that she wouldn't make it far without being hunted down and apprehended; there were too many in the castle who'd take pleasure in dragging her kicking body across the flagstones.

The great door of the Emperor's chamber swung inwards, and skekSo loomed in the doorway, looking so disheveled that even the Chamberlain appeared taken aback. skekSo's feathers were slick with sweat, and there was blood and drool dampening the front of his layered robes. As he leaned down to glower at Seladon she saw a flap of skin hanging loose from his cheek and sucked in a horrified breath.

_Silvan._

"My Lord Emperor," said skekSil, stammering a little. "Forgive Chamberlain most greatly if you are... not modest, but I found All-Maudra wandering corridor unattended. Thought best to bring her here, to be dealt with directly. But if there is better time..."

"It _is_ an unexpected intrusion," the Emperor rasped, his voice thick with the black phlegm that gathered under the silver beak. "But it saves me summoning the All-Maudra to me, as I would have done otherwise. I have quite the series of questions."

Seladon and the Chamberlain exchanged glances, oddly united in a moment of trepidation. Then skekSil's gaze hardened and he pushed her forward, rather more forcefully than necessary, until they were all in the chamber with the door closed, the vast room feeling suddenly claustrophobic around them.

"Turn around, All-Maudra," said skekSo, catching hold of the end of her chain. "And tell me what _filth_ you allowed to infiltrate my castle."

Even before she obeyed Seladon's stomach plummeted. She and Silvan had only briefly discussed what was to be done when their plot was discovered, both of them knowing it would be an ugly affair no matter what they did.

Still, nothing would have prepared her for the broken figure on the bed. Amidst the torn-up nest of his shirt Silvan lay in a foetal knot, shaking so hard that flecks of blood flicked onto the chamber floor. His white hair was plastered to his scalp with gore, and the air of arrogance that had suited Silvan so well had been completely torn from him, its absence as gutting as the removal of a wing.

"Answer me, Gelfling whore," the Emperor hissed. "What sneaking ploy of your people did you hope we'd overlook by turning our eye to a _commonor_?" 

"I...

Seladon still hadn't quite gathered her words and shook her head, stalling for time. Beside her the Chamberlain's familiar, sly crooning had begun.

"Chamberlain was right to be suspicious. All-Maudra and boy do not act like siblings, I suspected long ago-"

"And yet _you_ said _nothing_ to me," snarled the Emperor. "Not a word. You allowed me to make a fool of myself and my court by housing a _pauper_ while the Princess roams free."

"I only wished to be _sure_ , Emperor, please believe," cried skekSil, spreading his hands. "Did not want to spread rumour without certainty, to waste time. Besides, once boy had been to laboratory for tests you would know-"

" _Tests_?" asked Seladon, shrilly. "Tests for _what_?"

"To discern if he _was_ indeed royal," said the Emperor, his eyes like beads of fire. "And in full health. Such blood is something I will require when I breed your own kind for my own keep. Your brother might have studded for some time, if _brother_ indeed he had been, but now it seems there is _reason_ for him being such a wretched nuisance."

"But he _is_ my brother!"

"Quiet!" screamed the Emperor, and he struck Seladon's face so hard that she split the inside of her cheek against her teeth.

Swallowing blood Seladon steadied her balance, telling herself that if she stood upright, as strong as the queen she had been she could draw strength from that far gone time.

"What does it matter, anyway, when you'll only kill us and drink us all in the end? I doubt that you could tell _my_ Essence from his even if we _weren't_ siblings."

There Seladon allowed herself a touch of venom, knowing that it added a dash of truth to the lie. On the bed she saw Silvan's head rise a little, his black and swollen eyes despairing; he'd given everything to ensure her escape, and she'd reduced that effort to nothing.

"I do _not_ like being lied to," growled skekSo. "And you have humiliated me for the last time."

"I _told_ you," said Seladon, grinding her teeth together. "He _is_ my brother. I _am_ his sister. Where has this notion sprung from?"

"From _him_ ," said the Emperor, and pulling the chain taut around Seladon's throat he began to throttle her. "From the very mouth of your darling brother. Or should I say _rebel friend_? He announced himself when we were alone."

skekSo gestured to the bed.

"He looked into my eyes and said that he had come from nothing, that my court had relished no more than a _peasant_ in their midst while your people scattered for the winds. That the scuffle that captured him allowed the final piece of some plan to fall into place. Is _that_ what you wanted, Seladon? A final chance to mock me, who so destroyed you?"

For a moment a laugh fought its way up Seladon's throat, but she dared not release it. As the Emperor dropped the chain at her throat she wheeled for air and croaked her answer.

"If _only_ I knew I had that chance. But I tell you, he _is_ my sibling, and I have protected him as such. I wouldn't risk my life or dignity _any_ Gelfling. You have said it yourself. I sold my soul to save my sisters, but the other Clans, my own friends- I would have watched them all be culled like sick Landstriders to keep my dear ones safe."

"Perhaps All-Maudra had _own_ plan," said skekSil, his pink tongue licking his beak. "Clever notion to slip away under Skeksis' beak. _That_ was why you protected this pretender, suffered for him."

This time Seladon _did_ laugh, a cold, hard, cough, like a Fizzgig's cry.

"Is it really so difficult for you to believe that I love my brother?"

The two Skeksis Lords considered Seladon's words.

"Could it be truth?" the Chamberlain mused, aloud. "Treachorous though All-Maudra is..."

Seladon looked at the Emperor, who was in turn staring at the bloodied Silvan in revulsion. Then something changed in his eyes, something cruel and sardonic and hard.

"No," said skekSo, slowly. " _No_. There is not."

He attacked Seladon again, bringing her to the ground.

"Do you want to know what _I_ believe, All-Maudra?" he breathed, into her face. "I believe skekSil is right. You _conspired_ together, you and this Vapran commoner. You sister sent him in her stead, and _you_ upheld that pretence to protect a brewing plan. Yet somehow, in your desperate need for company, you became _enamored_ with him. Perhaps even dallied behind my back."

"No," said Seladon, gasping as the Emperor shook her between his gnarled, bejewelled hands. "You're mad. I would never-"

"Yes," said skekSo, and his expression was twisted with fury and realisation. "And _that_ is why you came back for him rather than manifest some means to escape, is it not? You couldn't bear to leave your _lover_ behind."

The Chamberlain's sickening whimpers and Silvan's laboured breathing filled the room as the Emperor folded himself over Seladon's writhing form.

"Filthy traitor," skekSo said. "Now I must decide what to do with you both."

 _Lie_ , thought Seladon desperately. _Lie and deny, lie and deny, don't let him believe he's caught you out._

The Emperor's cold hand seized her head and twisted it towards Silvan, making her look at his bloodied form on the bed.

"I will have this traitor tortured by skekNa, broken in until he forgets his own name, then when he is dead I will have a bath drawn of his blood and Essence for you to bathe in. You have ushered in your own punishment, All-Maudra."

The Chamberlain, snickering, twisted his head from Seladon to Silvan, his cruel stare turning gleeful. It was seeing that shine, like the dull side of a silver spoon, that struck panic into Seladon, so deep that she could barely breathe. Even _more_ so, then, as skekSo's attention returned to her; Seladon saw a liquid death his eyes, overflowing towards her in a sickly wave.

"What shall I have done with you?" the Emperor drawled, wounded breaths bubbling up around his words like a grim epilogue. "What punishment remains that will still hurt you, my hardened queen?"

His breath on Seladon's face was hot and ripe. She thought of the many litres of Essence that had swilled in skekSo's gullet and heaved, unable to speak through the terror of this new, ugly world.

Then a voice rasped out across the room, so soft that it was a wonder any of them heard it over the Emperor's laboured breathing.

"Don't hurt her. I'll... tell you the _truth_."

" _What_ truth, peasant?" skekSo growled, his head pressed so close to Seladon's that the ornate metal beak cut her cheek, matching the scar that was already there. "You've already spoken enough."

Seladon craned her neck, trying to read Silvan's expression. She had no idea what we was about to say, what he'd conjured up to buy them time.

"Common boy knows nothing," the Chamberlain sniffed decisively. "Is lies. _Distraction_. Better to ignore."

"No," said Silvan.

He'd dragged himself up onto his elbows, his swollen face fixed upon the Skeksis Lords, facing them like an equal.

" _She_ believed it. Every word. She had to, for any of it to work."

"Oh, _did_ she, poor, susceptible-minded Seladon," the Emperor repeated mockingly, the sibillants propelling froths of spit into Seladon's upturned face. "What _idiocy_ you cling to, still supping at this lie."

"A _half_ -lie," Silvan insisted. "She'd never met me before I arrived here. She _pretended_ to know me. But then when I told her of my identity she believed it- there were many things erased from the past; why not that? She's an innocent."

"No," Seladon said. "Stop this! You _are_ my brother, you are-"

The Emperor immediately struck her, his talon opening another cut on her cheekbone.

"Hush, imbecile," he said. "Regardless, I will have the Scientist examine you both. I will get to the bottom of this matter and determine _which_ of you is telling the truth."

"Have caution, Emperor, please," urged the Chamberlain, his eyes innocently concerned. "Again and again All-Maudra betrays trust. Proves self unworthy of Skeksis' mercy. Perhaps better _drained_ , feeding Lords she tricked so boldly."

Seladon found herself wishing that she had thrown herself down the Podlings' shaft after all. At least then Silvan would have fulfilled his quest, his noble dream, rather than live to see it torn asunder.

"She _will_ be disciplined," said skekSo. "Do not doubt me in this regard."

The Emperor dragged himself fully upright, gritting his teeth against the obvious pain eating at his flesh. Shrinking away across the floor Seladon hoped that he'd lost his appetite for punishment, but there was an almost determined cast of desire across his wrinkled face.

"Chamberlain, return the All-Maudra to her room. I will escort this boy to the laboratory. skekTek is quite eager to unravel his secrets."

skekSil took a handful of Seladon's hair and lifted her, kicking, off the floor.

"No! Don't hurt him! _Silvan_!"

The Emperor stepped towards the bed, his heaving form blocking the boy from view.

"I will not let them kill you!" Seldon cried, desperately, not knowing if it was really true but _wanting_ Silvan to hear it, needing it.

She fought against skekSil, knowing that it was pointless, continuing until he threw her down upon her own bedchamber floor, her screams at a fraught, agonised pitch.

"You should be _dead_ ," the Chamberlain hissed. "Emperor is too lenient. skekSil was right about vicious Gelfling traitors."

Having nothing else to lose Seladon flew at him, tearing at his face until, yelping, the Chamberlain seized a flailing arm and jerked, the crack of bone shocking Seldon into stillness.

The Lord slung her limp form at the bed, bringing a hand up to his wounded face.

"How _dare_ Gelfling attack only Skeksis who has given fair chance to redeem self," he hissed. "Now All-Maudra is alone in world."

Still screaming over her broken arm Seladon didn't have the presence to reply before the Skeksis retreated; if she had she might have told him she was used to well used to the feeling of being alone.

*

The following weeks were a blur of punishment and monk-like isolation, the routine more or less the same from one day to the next. On the first Seladon was interred to the lab where the Scientist cast her broken arm, pressing his claws unnecessarily against the swelling as he did so. After that she was bound to the draining chair and drained, of blood, of Essence, until as a limp shell Seladon was returned to her room again.

Then she slept, having no strength to do anything more.

This continued over and over, to the point that Seladon felt faintly surprised to survive it. She ebbed in and out of conciousness as though a sleeping princess in some fairytale, catching only glimpses of what was happening to her. Sometimes when Seladon was slumped in the draining chair the Scientist would _touch_ her, his visage the picture of spite. Once she awoke to skekUng within her, having briefly returned from his search for the Gelfling rebels to inflict his rage.

Merciful sleep took Seladon again before she knew too much.

Then one morning she felt herself being shaken awake by insistent hands, coarse and familiar. Groggily Seladon opened her eyes.

"Uldre?"

"Seladon, _must_ get up. _Emperor_ want you."

The Podling's voice was miserable; _she_ , too, was disappointed that Seladon had stayed.

"Let me sleep," said Seladon. "Just let me sleep."

"Uldre _would_ if could, but you know how is. Seladon... Silvan turned so _bad_. He not like _him_ anymore. _Poludio je_."

At this Seladon forced herself to sit upright, her heart squeezing in her chest.

"What do you _mean_? What have they _done_ to him?"

Twisting her apron in her fists Uldre did her best to explain, and in bits and pieces Seldon learned what the Skeksis had created.

*

  
The Prince crouched by the Emperor's throne, his eyes flicking back and forth across court in fractious irritation. He was bored of the Lords, their laughter at his antics, the hovering fear in their predatory eyes. He wanted the true stink of terror, the white flesh of eyes rolling back in dying skulls. Such joys the Emperor had taught him to love.

"You are restless, Prince," said skekSo, tapping the boy's shoulder. "Have patience. I have called for your sister to be brought to you."

"My _sister_."

The Prince twitched, a smile crossing his lips. He remembered the All-Maudra as he did everything of his old life, but distantly, like a story he'd once heard. skekSo had told the Prince that he desired Seladon, and indeed the Prince recalled that emotion, the pangs of desperate love. How _weak_ he'd been then, but that had been before the Skeksis' _gifts_ , days of screaming his crescendo-

"How _glad_ she'll be to see me," said the Prince, shaking the memories away.  
"You think she missed me, Emperor?"

"Undoubtedly," skekSo replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry these last few chaps are taking a while to edit!! I was the least happy with these originally, mostly because they're arguably the darkest and it's a lot to slog through during the many stresses and sadnesses of the pandemic. Shall try and get them out soon besties xoxo


	14. Darkness, I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seladon is overwhelmed by horror, but will not allow the Lords to break her will. She has come too far for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is mad late, I'm juggling four different writing projects on top of my regular job and it's a lot 😂 also this chapter was important to get right for me! PARTICULARLY as it's so dark lol. I don't always have the energy for it in this Panorama we're all in lol
> 
> As far as chapters go you can expect two more- I'm writing new portions! I might also write a fic for Uldre at some point, probably only a one-shot but people seem to love her character a lot!

Seladon sat with her pale hands twitching in her lap, all too aware of Uldre's dark, solemn eyes upon her, waiting for an All-Maudra's wisdom. But none came to her, nothing but the same panicked impulses that had roiled her from one misfortune to the next like a boat in some tormented sea.

But Seladon could not let them throw her now, not when the stakes of her existence were so high.

"I _have_ to take Silvan with me," said Seladon, at last. "When I escape he _must_ be with me. _If_ I escape; my only chance might have vanished."

Uldre shook her head, her red hair uncoiling beneath her cap.

" _Will_ be free," she said, firmly. "Lords still not _know_ about tunnel. _Never_ think Podlings make one. Never come near where Podlings live. They call us _glupo_. _They_ glupo."

Turning her head Uldre spat at the floor and ground it away with her foot, the first uncouth gesture Seladon had ever seen in the gentle Podling.

"Time come again," said Uldre. "Watch. _Wait_. Uldre knows quiet times in castle."

"But how do we bring Silvan with us?" Seladon asked, wretchedly. "Will he even _agree_ to come? If he's gone mad, if they've made him think like them..."

She allowed the sentence to trail off, afraid her voice would shatter like hardened sugar if she spoke another word.

"He- he need big help," said Uldre, carefully. "Medicine not fix."

"Mother Aughra could cure him," said Seladon. "I'm sure of it. There's no greater power than _she_ is in all of Thra."

"Then we bring him see her. Seladon right. Mother _liječiti_."

Uldre's face was rapt with hope and reverence: how pure this girl's heart must be to believe in Seladon so unflinchingly despite her many failures and mistakes.

"I just hope that there's _time_ ," said Seladon. "To heal, I mean. Both of us. My people are caught up in war against the Skeksis as we speak. If I return to them unprepared we might never win-"

" _Will_ ," said Uldre, frowning. "You _All-Maudra_. You are _borac_. Uldre seen it. Seladon strong."

The words stirred long-dead coals of pride in Seladon that the Emperor had snuffed out. Her time in the castle had been relatively short, but every agony and humiliation had changed her with a quickness that she would never have believed possible, before.

"I must- I must try to remember who I am," said Seladon, unsteadily. "I've had to throw out so many of my old thoughts and dignities to get by. I am not the queen I was. Some would say that I was never meant to be one at all."

"Not true."

"I'm afraid it is. I have many regrets."

"Uldre, too."

The Podling girl glanced away, and there was a haunted look in her dark, dewy eyes.

"And what of your people?" asked Seladon. "Will they escape, too?"

Uldre shrugged.

"Will try. There so many of us."

"But if you _stay_ -"

Both women shuddered with the same cold pass of dread.

"Well," said Seladon, abruptly. "I suppose it's time to see what the Emperor wants from me. And- and I _must_ see Silvan for myself, even if it breaks my heart."

After the ritual of dressing was over Uldre escorted Seladon to the throneroom, walking so close to her side that it was as if they were one person, melded at the hipbone. The vast room looked rather different than usual, there being two long tables set opposite each other, leaving a path in the middle to the throne itself. The Skeksis Lords were midway through gorging themselves, their faces dripping with wine and foodstuffs.

They were not alone. To Seladon's dismay several of the Lords had Gelfling captives chained at their feet, their eyes hollow and frightened. She didn't recognise any of their faces, but the mere sight of _others_ in her position made her ill.

"skekUng was generous enough to bring spoils back to the castle," announced the Emperor in a smug drawl, noticing the focus of Seladon's gaze. "A den of Drenchen were found in hiding. Their women are quite fair, don't you agree?"

That _voice_. In that long unnum of draining and sick caresses Seladon had forgotten how much she _hated_ the Emperor's voice, far more than any of the other Lords. She turned away from half a dozen pairs of pleading eyes to face the vast, unholy creature mounting the throne.

Then her gaze rooted to the _new_ monster, held before skekSo at the end of a gilded chain. It paced back and forth like an animal in some menagerie, the dancer-like elegance Seladon remembered turned dark and dizzying and _wrong_.

"Emperor," said Seladon, her voice wavering. "What have you _done_ to Prince Silvan? I thought- I thought you wanted to keep him-"

"Ah," skekSo replied, stroking the chain in his hand. "Why not ask your dear brother? I'm sure that it would give him _great_ pleasure to show you."

The pacing figure suddenly noticed Seladon and stopped, hunching forward like a predatory bird to look at her.

"Seladon, Seldon, _Seladon_ ," it said, softly. "How is your arm, sweet sister? They said it was horribly broken, in about fifty _thousand_ places. Is it true?"

"It wasn't so bad as that," Seladon replied, keeping her voice as level as she could. "The Skeksis have been lying to you about a lot of things, I'm sure."

" _Have_ they? Well, what does it matter? You've done a lot of lying too."

The boy's voice was wrong, high and almost childlike, yet more cruel than any youngling's could ever be. As for his appearence- Seladon cowered from it, her blood running cold. The beautiful silver head she'd spent so many days looking at was trapped in a cage made of black wire, spires coiling from his scalp like a crown. It was not merely locked upon his head, she realised, but _drilled_ there, metal struts piercing through the skin and into the skull. It was now part of him, as tooth or nail might be.

They'd dressed him in black, the trousers and tunic of a Prince- Thra _knew_ what poor Vapran had left such behind as spoils of war -and his eyes and lips behind the cage were daubed black, also. Jewels dripped from the boy's throat and fingers, shining like loathsome beetles, and on his feet were boots of black leather and silver spurs, such as skekUng wore. Seladon, all in white, delicate as an Unamoth, understood how cleverly the Emperor had plotted the details of this meeting, and hated him all the more for it.

"They've _hurt_ you, haven't they?" Seladon asked, looking deep into Silvan's eyes. "I _know_ they have. But you _can't_ let them change you, Silvan. You _have_ to wake up."

"I am wide awake, dear sister," said Silvan. "I rarely sleep, now. The Emperor gives me _so_ much to do."

Around the room Seladon noticed the Gelfling captives shuddering, and even the Skeksis themselves, looked on at Silvan with dislike. They clearly feared the boy's antics as much as they were entertained by them, and Seladon found herself wondering what recent atrocities these creatures had witnessed.

"The dear boy has quite the revelation for you," skekSo leered, leaning eagerly forward. " _Show_ her, Prince. I want to see her pain as she understands what has befallen while she was indisposed. I have long awaited this."

Silvan reached out and snatched up Seladon's hands in his, his fingers so cold that the shock of it made her yelp. The boy pushed his caged face close to hers, his eyes, which had once twinkled playfully, showing only the flashing hatred Seladon had seen during moments of regretful anger.

"Dreamfast with me, sister," Silvan whispered.

Seladon struggled and fought against the boy, trying to wrench their mental connection apart before it had even begun. But his mind probed for hers like an invading tongue, like a talon, like any of the foul organs that had defiled her, opening up her thoughts so sharply that Seladon screamed, both inwardly and out.

She saw Silvan's memories in crawling, spiny fragments, spiralling sickeningly around her while his crazed voice described it all in piercing detail.

_The Emperor took me until I couldn't take any more, he blessed me with his royal flesh, I see that now, but he broke me over and over and over until it hurt so much I couldn't move, I couldn't speak, it was dark even when it was light. Then he gave me to the Scientist- such a clever mind, Seladon, a genius mind -and told him he could do whatever he wanted to me, any experiment, any surgery, I was his to vivisect._

_Can you see what he did, Seladon? How he filled me with needles and wires, electrocuted me until I forgot my own name, spilled poisons and chemicals inside me, drained me and injected my own Essence back into me and oh it **hurt**! It hurt, it hurt, but then he gave me **yours** to drink and I came so hard I saw stars._

Seladon bucked and thrashed against the enslaught of images, her weak form entombed within them.

_They appeared to me one by one, the Skeksis, and told me things I should never know, things I can't forget! Not ever! But I'm so clever now, and wise. skekEkt showed me how to skin things alive, and soon skekUng will take me Gelfling-hunting. I'll be good at that, I think. Better than play-time._

Whimpering desperately, Seladon tried to dredge herself from the nightmare scape and failed, only falling back down into the cruel pit of thoughts.

 _Will you join me, my sister? Will you? Because you_ are _my sister, after all. The same Sifa father. The same Queen-mother. The Scientist found it out through our blood. The story I told- it was one I always knew, part of me. All this time we were pretending, we were exactly what we said we were._

Silvan pushed an image towards Seladon, a memory he must have long-forgotten: himself as a swaddled infant, passed from the arms of one Vapra woman to another of far lower class.

"Take him away," said a familiar voice, so familiar it _hurt_. "Never bring him here again. The Lords must not learn of this, or they will think that I am proud of my mistake."

 _Your mother,_ hissed Silvan. _**Our** mother. You hear how she spoke of me? What would she think of us now?_

"Stop!" Seladon cried, and somehow she managed to tug herself away from the trembling boy and his ruined mind.

She scrubbed her hands down the front of her dress, as if doing so could scrape the horrors away, but they were all over her, seething like ants. All Seladon could think was how vastly she and Silvan had misunderstood the bond between them, perverting it into the very taboo they'd been so smug as to avoid. Tears began coursing down Seladon's face, but she was more angry than saddened, outrage boiling off her in waves.

"You _monster_!" she screamed at the Emperor. "You've turned him into some some laboratory animal. It's _sick_. I thought you _needed_ him?"

"I changed my mind," said the Emperor, his diseased beak grinning widely. "I had skekTek remove what genetic material is necessary for breeding; his living form is hardly vital, now. I decided he was better suited as a test subject, particularly after causing so much _distress_."

"How _can_ you do such terrible things and regret _nothing_?"

"Save your judgement, pet," skekSo leered. "Look upon your _own_ acts. How many times is it you've enjoyed your brother now?"

"I could ask all of you much the same," said Seladon, viciously. "I doubt _that_ is something you and your court have not done together."

An offended gasp rippled around the room. Taking this as his cue Silvan rounded on Seladon and struck her across the face, the blow sending her windmilling onto the flagstones. The moment she was down he was upon her like a Spitter, thin limbs pinning hers to the floor. With the cage around his head he was unable to bite her, but the look of fury on his face made Seladon sure that he _wanted_ to.

"What shall I do to her, my Emperor?" asked Silvan, shaking with anticipation and rabid desire. "She shouldn't speak to you like that."

He was hard against her leg, Seladon realised, and as frightened and sickened as she was Seladon felt an unwanted rush of arousal. It scared her more than anything Silvan had forced her to see in his tortured Dreamfast to know that she _still_ desired him, knowing now what she did-

"Undress her, my tame monster," said the Emperor. "Then make her _ready_ for me. I want her wet as I take her before her own kind."

He and the other Skeksis were all leaning forward in their seats, their beaks glistening with spittle.

"Silvan," Seladon cried, shaking the Gelfling as he began to tear her gown into strips from her frail body. "Silvan, I _know_ you remember your past. Think of _why_ you came here. To _save_ me. You _care_ about me."

Silvan paused, and for a moment Seladon thought that she'd reached him through his addled fog. But then he spat through his cage-crown, causing the onlookers to laugh maniacally.

"All I remember is _weakness_ ," he said. "The Lords have taken that burden from me."

The boy thust his cold fingers inside Seladon to the knuckle and twisted, making her gasp. Then he lowered his mouth to her folds, and his tongue moved so deftly through the cage that Seladon had to bite the inside of her mouth to avoid making a sound. She wanted to shut her eyes, but each time she did Silvan reached up to hit her again, making her pay keen attention to his presence.

The fingers curled inside Seladon made her kick and gasp with unwanted pleasure, but it was only as Silvan lifted his face from her cunt to whisper, "come for your brother, little queen" that climax wrenched through her abdomen.

"Away now, Prince," said the Emperor, languidly. "I'll let you _fill_ her another time."

As Seladon lay panting through her tears the mad Gelfling danced back to to the throne again, his lower jaw dripping with her mess. The Emperor outstretched a sole, ringed talon and beckoned.

"Crawl to me, All-Maudra. If you will _not_ then every other Gelfling in this room will suffer for your sake."

So Seladon crawled, favouring her stronger arm, thinking of the tunnel, of freedom, of revenge.

To her left Silvan twitched and panted, twiddling a ruby around his long, delicate fingers. From time to time he gnashed his teeth and yawned, as if sitting still bored him to distraction, but he didn't shift from skekSo's side even once. Seladon closed her eyes for a moment, pained by the sight of her friend- her _brother_ -lowered so, but that was no better; all around her she could hear the jeering of the Lords watching her degradation, all part of it.

It was then that Seladon thought to herself, "I will _not_ leave them here. I _cannot_. There _must_ be a way to liberate them all, at least these few Gelfling in this room. They are my responsibility."

Out loud she said, "My Lord Emperor. Whatever you do to me, I don't wish my people to see."

She forced her voice to shake, making herself sound meek, cowed, defenceless.

"Your despoilment will hardly scandalise them," said skekSo, feigning a yawn. "They have seen you fall before. What matter if they witness it a second time? Besides, they have known such pleasures themselves."

The Emperor ran a hand through the back of Silvan's hair, his talons clicking upon the cage.

"There have been many orgies in your absence. You need only ask the court to detail it."

"Oh, yes, the Emperor is correct," said the Ritual Master, dragging a kicking Gelfling female up onto her tiptoes. "Look here."

Seladon was horrified by the state of girl, her body raw from whipping, knees thick with calloused scars from having to kneel on some unforgiving surface again and again.

"Those group rituals were how I decided which to take as my own," said skekZok. "Testing each creature's worth. Praya suits my desires beautifully."

"And mine," shrilled skekOk, running long fingers down the neck of a woman a similar age to Seladon's late mother, her finned wings twitching. "A mature, _somewhat_ intelligent creature, quick to learn, in _many_ ways."

Similar cries went up from the other Skeksis, most notably skekSil, who had taken a pair of twins as his companions.

"Such _obedient_ Gelfling," he simpered, a jab that only he and Seldon would fully understand. "Way Gelfling should be. Way _All-Maudra_ should be."

Mentally Seladon made a note of the Gelflings' faces and distinguishing features. If each Skeksis kept their slaves in their own rooms it would be almost impossible to extract them, and Seladon would have to leave without them, abandoned to this nightmare half-life.

At least Seladon had one comfort in that Uldre was right: Silvan _hadn't_ spilled the exact planned means of escape even under torture, the wild dervish of his broken mind hiding it from him. The tunnel's secret had been protected by the very violence employed to extract it.

If only she could bring these others. She needed at least _one_ victory, needed it so badly that she trembled and shook merely to think of it.

"I thought you said that you would spare _no_ _one_ ," said Seladon, at last. "When I begged for my people's lives you told me that you would kill them _all_. And yet they are here, in court-"

"For now," said the Emperor, slyly. "They will die, when we tire of their company. Besides, they hardly enjoy _luxury_. When they are not entertaining us they are kept in a mere _cage_ , at which your dear brother stands watch. He makes an excellent guard dog."

Silvan smirked, and again the Emperor stroked his hair indulgently through the wire crown.

"My Lord Emperor won't let me play with them," said Silvan.

"You are too rough," drawled skekSo. "I _must_ thank the Scientist for his efforts in making such a perfect monster out of you. Perhaps I will send him the cold scraps from our dinner tonight as a token of my approval."

The mere mention of the Scientist sent a cold sweat down Seladon's back. She'd been barely conscious throughout his ministrations in the laboratory, but what she remembered-

_Metal tools inside her, opening her, his fingers in her mouth, her dry apertures, examining as much as drawing personal pleasure_

-was quite enough.

Seladon's arms folded beneath her, and she fell to the filthy floor. She let her eyes roll, her head loll, and twitched for good measure. It wasn't difficult to mimic a faint with so many ugly emotions devastating her, and from the gasps rising up from the onlookers Seladon knew that her audience had been convinced.

"Oh _dear_ ," said skekSo, coolly. "So many weeks of draining have left you in rather a pitiful state. Prince, wake her up. I want her _standing_ , facing me."

There was a jingling of chains and Silvan crouched low to hoist Seladon upright. His body against hers gave off apalling heat, as if a great, dark energy churned, furnace-like, inside him.

"I feel your heart beating like a fly's wings," Silvan whispered, against her hair. "You were just pretending. Shall I give you away, or not?"

Holding her breath Seladon waited for a tinkle of vicious laughter, for the boy to scream out some _secret_ , but he only kissed the back of her hair and shook her, forcing her eyes open.

"I'm sorry, Emperor," Seladon muttered.

The Skeksis leaned back in his throne again, his talons caressing its arms.

"I doubt that," he said. "I am under no illusions as to our relationship, or lack of thereof. But it disappoints me that you did not appreciate the lenience with which I treated you. Each and every one of the Gelfling in this room will _die_ in an unnum or two, when better breeding is recovered. But _you_ \- you I granted life, even veritable freedom about the castle, and still you plotted against me. You attempted to _humiliate_ me, although that backfired."

One of the Emperor's hands flew out and seized Seladon's throat. It clenched for a moment, then slid between her breasts, between her legs, where the wetness from Silvan's tongue still shone like an opal's gleam. The look on the Skeksis' face was strange and frightening, hatred, need, and possessiveness combined as one.

"I _could_ kill you now," said skekSo. "Snap your worthless body like a mere blade of grass. But I've begun to enjoy this game. Your valiant attempts to evade me, the delectable triumph of catching you and making you pay for your misdeeds."

He turned Seladon around again, rustling his robes so that she was seated upon his rising crotch. As skekSo jerked himself inside her tightness she felt her soul shrivel a little more, like a leaf when the seasons turn.

"Your privileges will be revoked again, of course," said the Emperor, casually, as he slid her up and down the swollen girth of his cock. "I'm _quite_ sure that you'll keep your wits, considering how long you have lasted these past weeks without rotting away. No more walks about the castle, except to my room, no more concerts, nothing. And your torments are _far_ from over."

Seladon felt his teeth on her neck, biting deep enough to draw blood. She passively allowed it, trying not to look at the agonised faces of her subjects below. She felt the Emperor's free hands pinching her breasts, parting her labia, opening her up for his voyeurs.

Between pants of breath skekSo murmured, "Be advised, Gelfling. If you plot against me again I will pluck your wings from their sockets and hang them in my bedchamber, where you will see them and be reminded of your failure each time I fuck you there."

 _You will never get the chance_ , thought Seladon. _Perhaps one day it will be_ your _head I hang from my mantle before it falls away to dust._

When the dinner was over and the drained Podlings had escorted Seladon to her room she found that it had been changed in her absence. It was empty of everything but the washbasin and mirrored walls, the bed and chamberpot dragged away. She was clearly expected to use the floor for all purposes, like an animal, to degrade herself all the more- at this she laughed, for had the Skeksis _truly_ been as clever as they believed themselves to be they would have taken the basin away, also.

Seladon looked at herself in one of the mirrored walls, seeing herself in a far more frank and cynical light than she ever had, before. She saw a face that had surpassed madness, that had endured hopeless terrors and endured. There was strength in it, from the tense little jaw to the dark flints of her eyes.

A woman who had done all this was capable of so much more.

As she peered into her own eyes Seladon began to piece a plan together, each fragment feeling _final_ , pre-destined, as if someone else had trodden the same path before her under another captor. Perhaps a woman with her own fierce loves and dreams, one who'd wanted Seladon to know how to save herself.

Words occurred to Seladon, strange and faint, like whispers from some dream-

SHE WHO HEARS THE FLAME, THE COLOUR OF THE BLUE FLAME, THE BLUE

"Who _are_ you?" Seladon murmured. "What does this _mean_?"

But the thoughts, the words, the impression of that other woman were gone, leaving her alone.

As Seladon ran a bout of water to cleanse herself of the Emperor's filth a familiar knock came at the door, and Uldre entered, carrying a tray of bread and gruel. She turned her head politely when she saw that Seladon undressed, a gesture that seemed impossibly thoughtful in this Thra-forsaken place.

"Uldre," said Seladon, softly. "Could you help me escape as soon as tomorrow night?"

The Podling girl glanced up in confusion.

"Thought Seladon wanted wait until Emperor _trust_ again?"

"No. He never will. It has to be now."

For a moment it seemed the Podling would refuse, but then she nodded.

" _Da_."

"I've had an idea that might make it possible to help Silvan," said Seladon. "And at least _some_ of my people. Do you have the keys to Silvan's prison?"

"Yes. But-"

"Alright. I have another question. This might sound strange, but what are the largest dinner trays you keep in the pantry?"

Bemused, Uldre stretched out her arms, indicating the height and width. Seladon felt a shiver lace down her spine.

"Good. We'll need them if what I have in mind is going to work."

*

The Scientist was working late that night, buried neck-deep in another of his projects. He'd been tasked with manufacturing some kind of winged spy to track any Gelflings attempting to avoid detection by taking flight. His good eye ached, and his talons were swollen from tireless work. At least the rabid little Prince had been _entertaining_ to work on; now skekTek was merely irritable, longing for the barren silence of his bedchamber.

Just as skekTek was thinking this four Podlings dragging oversized dinner trolleys came clattering into the laboratory, mumbling nervous apologies as they navigated their infernal contraptions around the room.

"Does nobody in this castle _knock_ anymore?" the Scientist shrieked, throwing a protective sheet over the examination table. "Does nobody consider the _immeasurable_ value of my intellectual facilities? Do I pursue the advancement of technology for _nothing_?"

"Sorry, Lord, sorry," one of the Podlings whimpered, bowing anxiously. "Emperor send leftovers from feast, thank Lord for hard work."

"Oh, yes," said the Scientist, relaxing a little. "I remember hearing something about that. A reward _long_ overdue. Now if only the Emperor would determine me worthy to _attend_..."

One of the trolleys caught on the foot of some machine, and skekTek bridled.

"Be careful, you blundering idiots. Everything in this laboratory is _infinitely_ precious. And keep your theiving Podling hands to yourself. I will not be blamed for your mindless pilfering again."

He watched as the Podlings filed towards the exit of the room and shook his head. It seemed odd that so much food remained from the feast; the Skeksis usually gorged themselves until every plate was either licked clean or smashed upon the opposite wall. Each covered metal dish on the trolleys was enormous, the kind usually kept for roast Nebrie.

"Well, perhaps the Emperor really is impressed by my efforts with the boy," skekTek mumbled to himself. "If you can create evil _I_ achieved it; perhaps the first to ever do so by scientific processes... and come to think of it, roast Nebrie would indeed be welcome..."

Drooling despite his grumblings the Scientist leaned forward to pluck the lid from the nearest dinner tray. As he did so the thing had been lying beneath it leapt at him, clinging to his robes with one arm and holding a kitchen knife to his throat with the other.

"All-Maudra!" skekTek yelped. "What do you think you're _doing_? The Emperor will have you _killed_ for this-"

"Quiet!" the Gelfling snarled, and rammed the blade so hard against the Scientist's throat that the pipe he'd inserted the track his own blood threatened to crack. "Keep your voice down and do exactly as I say or I _will_ kill you. I have more than enough reasons to."

"You wouldn't _dare_!" snapped skekTek.

"That is where you're wrong," said the All-Maudra, and it was then the Scientist noticed the Podlings had returned, each brandishing their own weapons and looking as fierce as their root-vegetable faces could muster.

"It's- it's a _conspiracy_ ," skekTek said. "You ungrateful crawlies! After you were allowed to remain undrained-"

"Silence," the All-Maudra spat.

The Gelfling released skekTek's throat and dropped to the floor, her pale face flushed with rage. She was dressed like a Podling, all brown rags and stench. Her skeletal figure smelled of the food she'd been lying in, but there was a look in the creature's eyes that the Scientist knew to be wary of, having seen it in the Emperor's own many times.

"What do you require of me?" skekTek asked, at last. " _More_ Milk-poppy, I suggest, since this endeavour equates to mass-suicide-"

"Something stronger than that," said the All-Maudra. "Something that will make a person docile for a day or more."

Rubbing the lens of his prosthetic eye the Scientist considered.

" _Persecutus est draco_ would do it," he said, at last. "Although the patient may hallucinate as a side effect. I have enough vials for a few draughts, no more."

"Bring it to me," the Gelfling commanded. "Fill two of your needles with it. The ones you used to torture me."

Grumbling under his breath the Scientist complied, keeping the All-Maudra in view at the corner of his eye. Whoever the Persecutus draught was intended for skekTek could only guess at, but he was well aware that this sudden assault upon him was, in part, a petty revenge. He'd put this Gelfing through every invasive test he could think of and _more_ , invading her purely to see the disgust upon her pain-wracked face. If only she knew how mild her torture had been in comparison to her half-brother, with whom it was rumoured the filthy creature had fallen in love.

"There," said skekTek, dropping the filled hypodermic needles into the All-Maudra's outstretched hand. "But I warn you, Gelfling, you'll _never_ escape this place no matter whose veins you fill with chemicals. My brethren will know you're scuttling about the castle soon enough."

"Not if you don't _tell_ them," said the All-Maudra.

The Scientist was about to reply when he felt a sharp bite on the back of his hand. Looking down he saw one of the hyperdermic needles embedded into a vein, clear liquid vanishing into his papery flesh.

"You- you pestilent _creature_ ," he moaned.

The Scientist slumped to the floor, feeling suddenly numb and, at the same time, rather silly, blinking up at the hostile faces around him. 

"I... _what_ was it I was saying?"


End file.
